


Still Doll

by Jwink85



Category: South Park
Genre: Abuse, Coercion, Control, Demonic Possession, F/M, Fear, Handcuffs, Insanity, M/M, Obsession, Paranormal, Redemption, Sexual Violence, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 05:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15722604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jwink85/pseuds/Jwink85
Summary: Craig is freaking insane and terribly obsessed with Pip, and Pip, for his part, is just trying to get through this crazy thing called life intact. Throw Damien in there for good measure and you've got a hell of a ride on your hands.This story isn't really for the faint of heart. At least I don't think it is? As always, I have no idea what I'm really talking about. xD





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a strange, crazy little story I wrote awhile ago, and recently revamped a little. I touched up the language and cleaned up the grammar/word structure (hoo boy, was that a task, and it's still just terrible), but I loved writing this story. It was dark, but it was fun.
> 
> I have to go on record to say that I hate seeing the characters happy for the most part. If they're ever serene it's either accidental or it's fleeting, I assure you, lmao.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story and please, please comment to tell me what you think. Feedback is a writer's life blood, I dare say.
> 
> PS: FYI: this story first appeared on FF.net under the username "FreeThinker29" like a million fucking years ago. It was originally called the "Ties that Bind" but I changed it. Obviously.

Hi miss Alice    
What kind of dreams   
Do you see   
With your eyes of glass?   
Do they fascinate you? 

Again,  
My heart is torn   
And bleeding.   
I mend it but   
My memories   
Pierce the openings.

** -Still Doll, Kanon Wakeshima **

** **** **

 

The first thing Pip felt when he woke that morning was pain.

A dull throb pulsed behind his left ear as his eyes opened to take in the morning light. Ignoring his headache, he looked over and read the numbers flashing on the clock.

6:30 AM.

Time enough to get ready for school. Time enough to nurse the wounds from the previous day.

Soft light filtered in from the open window. Pip's skin shone like pale porcelain as he crawled from his bed and stretched the slim length of his body; tiny pops running up his spine.

Bruises bloomed on his arms and abdomen. Purple, blue...some had already faded to yellow and hints of green. Gashes were scattered over his back in angry crisscrosses, some still crusted over with dried blood. His back looked like a roadmap to a city in Hell.

All of these details were the norm, though. A natural occurrence of everyday life.

The beatings in the hallway, his body being pushed into the harsh metal of his locker; not a day passed without assault. For as long as he could remember...

Torture.

Fear.

Pain.

The other students at South Park High were cruel, unyielding in their ceaseless carnage.

But Pip didn't focus on this. He hoped for something more; an escape.  
  
Deliverance.


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh, Pip, Pip, Pip..." Craig said gently, almost lovingly, "I can't let you talk to me any way you want, can I? I have my reputation to consider."

Pip watched Craig with weary eyes. He knew that if he took his eyes off of him for one moment he would regret it. Dealing with a bully was like dealing with a cobra: one false move or delayed vigilance could spell certain doom.

"Now, how are we going to handle this situation, Piparoo?" Craig asked. Leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. Craig seemed deceptively casual, but Pip knew better, though. He'd been dealing with him long enough to know that Craig was a tightly-wound spring; never relaxed, and always ready to snap.

"I-I'm not sure." Pip said, softly. "I didn't mean to offend you, Craig."

He really hadn't. How was he supposed to know that Craig wanted to sit next to Bebe in homeroom? Pip had been sitting next to her all year and Craig had never seemed to have a problem with it. Until today, of course.

Craig smirked. "What, do you think you have a chance with Bebe or something? That if you sit next to her long enough she'll open up those pretty legs for you? Get serious, Pip."

Pip cringed. Craig's colorful use of language was something he could never get used to. How could he stand being so crude all the time?

"N-no, of course not. I j-ust, w-ell I," -

Craig laughed. "N-o, o-f c-c-c-ourse n-n-ot," he mimicked Pip shamelessly. "Why are you so nervous Pip? Because I'm going to kick your ass or because I was right about you wanting Bebe?"

Black fear reared its head inside of Pip's brain. He could feel droplets of sweat sliding from under his arms; could feel it collecting on his brow. The last time Craig had beat him he had barely been able to get out of bed the next day. When he'd taken his shirt off the bruises seemed endless and a huge gash on his forehead had made him walk with his head down for days. He couldn't let Craig hurt him again, and he was afraid of the sleepless nights trying to find a comfortable sleeping position; he was afraid of having to drag himself home...

"No, please, I'm sorry." Pip began to plead, backing away. "Not again..." Frantically, he looked around for a way out, for someplace to run. Unfortunately, Craig had managed to corner him in one of the school music rooms that wasn't used very much anymore. As disgusting as he was, Craig was no fool.

Craig advanced on him, the look on his face warping from casual malice to outright psychosis. "It's your own fault, Pippy. You should've learned not to cross me. Them's the breaks, I suppose." He began to roll up his sleeves.

In his fright, Pip couldn't help but remember what set Craig off the last time. He had accidentally splashed him with water when they were both washing their hands in the restroom. Then his mind flashed to another restroom, his own, and he could see himself laying on the floor, his face pressed against the cold tile. Without his shirt on, the fields of bruises that shadowed his torso had resembled a meadow that could only grow in Hell.

In an action that even surprised him, Pip reached out and shoved Craig as hard as he could. Craig, who never expected Pip of all people to raise a hand to him, went flying backwards, his foot hooking on a chair and sending him reeling to the floor. For a moment, Pip just stood there, breathless and strangely excited. What had he done?

"You just made one hell of a mistake, you ass-fuck." Craig whispered, his words seeping out of his mouth like acid.

The old familiar terror seized Pip around the throat, killing whatever triumph he had felt from trying to stand up to Craig. Without a second thought, he lunged for the music room door, tore it open, and fled down the hallway. Outside the large windows that lined the corridor he could see that heavy clouds were drawing themselves across the sun. The bruised lighting that accompanied a late spring rainstorm turned the school into an alien landscape. Pip's fear intensified as he stumbled down a hallway that suddenly seemed like a foreign land.

 _What have I done?_ He thought again. _What have I done what have I done what have I done...?_ His thoughts stumbled over themselves in a crazy repetition that seemed as unfamiliar as the hallway he was running through.

The thumping of sneakers behind him broke into the jumbled pattern of his thoughts. Craig had already picked himself off the floor and had taken chase, and from the sound of it, he was making very good time. With a choked sob, Pip tried to pick up some speed, praying that fear would lend swiftness to his feet, which suddenly, perversely, felt heavy as cannonballs.

Pip cursed himself for staying after school for so long to finish his homework. If he hadn't been so wrapped up in finishing his paper he wouldn't have lost track of time. Now he was trapped in a practically deserted school with a sociopath.

"Help me..." he gasped, tears collecting under his closed eyes. "Please, won't somebody help me?"

He was coming to the end of the hallway now, and he could practically feel Craig's breath scraping at the back of his neck, could feel its warmth along with -

SLAM!

Craig had managed to catch up to Pip and had shoved him as hard as he could to the floor. Pip gasped as his cheekbone connected with the industrial linoleum. Clutching his face, he attempted to curl himself into a ball, finding any way to fend off Craig's impending abuse. The storm outside was becoming more frenzied, the shadows in the school practically eating up everything in their path.

Pip moaned as he felt Craig's hand descend on his shoulder, and he cringed as he was viciously yanked from the floor and slammed against a wall. His back screamed in pain as Craig pushed him against the wall over and over again.

"What the fuck were you thinking? Huh? What made you think you could just get away with something like that? How fucking stupid are you, Pip?" Craig sneered, his breath floating across the distance between their faces; the scent of peppermint and something else, something unsettling Pip couldn't name, making him want to gag. Somehow, he managed to refrain, not wanting to infuriate Craig further.

"Just leave me alone, Craig!" Pip sobbed, breaking down completely now. Maybe if he showed Craig just how frightened he was, maybe that would be enough. Isn't that what Craig really wanted anyhow? To know that he had bent a weaker creature to his will? That he was truly the predator while Pip was nothing but his prey, left to cower at his feet?

Through the darkness, Pip could see a smile snake across Craig's face. That smile, coupled with the way Craig was suddenly stroking his hair filled him with icy dread.

"I love to see your fear, Pip." Craig purred, drawing Pip's face closer to his own. The fetid smell of his breath was almost overwhelming Pip at this point. "I love to see you on your knees. I especially like the way you look up at me."

Without warning, Craig's mouth was suddenly covering Pip's, his hands clasped tightly behind Pip's neck. Though he was terrified, Pip sagged against Craig's body, the fear and tension causing his body to become slack with exhaustion. He closed his eyes against the darkness the storm brought, against this horror that was snaking its way into his mouth. He just wanted to sink into the gloom and disappear.

Craig's tongue slowly slid across Pip's lip and it bled into the deep crevasse of his mouth, and his hands slid into his hair, pulling it roughly. Pip shuddered with pain as Craig bit into the fleshiest part of his lip. Craig drew away slowly, and Pip could see that Craig's mouth was covered with his blood.

"Get on your knees." Craig whispered in the empty hallway.

Pip looked at him with wide eyes. He was afraid to disobey, but he was also too terrified to move.

Craig grabbed him by the hair and forced him to the floor. "I said get on your knees, you little fuck!"

Dizzily, Pip looked up at Craig as the rains pelted the windows. Over the sounds created by the storm, Pip could hear the distinctive sound of a zipper being slowly pulled down.

 


	3. Chapter 3

It's amazing what goes on in a school after the last chalkboard has been cleaned and the teachers have climbed into their cars and gone home.

One would expect random acts of vandalism to be perpetrated, or students staying behind to finish assignments due the next day. At the very least, one could expect to find a lone janitor giving the floors one last spit and polish before calling it a day.

But who would have ever thought that bullying of this caliber was taking place mere hours after the last bell had rung? Unfortunately for Craig, he didn't realize that he and Pip weren't the only ones left in the quiet school; not in the slightest. There was one other person there, standing quietly in the shadows; watching and waiting. The boy in the shadows could already tell that this was going to be one hell of a show!

****

 _Well, I'll be goddamned_ , the boy in the shadows thought to himself gleefully, _that smarmy fuck is really going to whip it out right here and make that little Brit suck him off. That takes a whole lotta balls._

Making sure to stay completely out of sight, the boy watched with intense interest as Craig did indeed "whip it out" and force Pip's head forward, causing him to cry out in pain and fear.

Craig looked around nervously at the sound of Pip's voice. A flash of lightning briefly illuminated his face, and the boy could see how wide his eyes were, how they were filled with a perverted desire. Rearing back, Craig punched Pip across the face, the action producing a sound reminiscent of hamburger hitting a hard floor.

"Shut up, already." He seethed. "If someone hears us...I don't even want to think about what I'd do to you. Get started." Once again, he yanked Pip's head towards his crotch.

 _This guy is unbelievable!_ The shadow-boy thought. _What he's doing is already disgusting beyond belief...talk about delusional._

 _Yeah, but you're standing there watching...not doing a damn thing to help that stupid kid. How are you any less disgusting? In fact, you're probably worse than that smarmy prick getting his rocks off over there!_ His mind screeched relentlessly, making him smile softly.

 _I know a good show when I see one,_ he thought, and he loved his own clear rationality. _I've only been back in South Park for an hour and I'm already having fun. How lucky can one guy get?  
_

Besides, he had unfinished business to take care of with his old friend, and he didn't want their reunion to be tainted by Craig's obvious insanity. No, it was much better to wait and catch the floor show first.

His smile changed to a smirk as soft sucking sounds filled the hallway. Craig's moans floated over to his ears, sending delicious shivers up his spine and from where he stood, he could see Pip shuddering as he pleasured Craig. Craig's hands were winding themselves slowly through Pip's hair, occasionally giving it a yank to keep him going. Rhythmically, his hips rocked against Pip's face, driving his meat deeper into Pip's open mouth. Pip moaned in agony, while Craig threw his head back in ecstasy.

In the shadows, the boy just smiled and watched, overcome with the joy he found in the scene unfolding before him.

****

That night, Pip stood looking at himself in the mirror over the bathroom sink. Around him, clouds of steam wafted through the air, some of which collected on the mirror before him. The steam made it hard to see his complete reflection, but Pip wasn't complaining. If he had been able to see himself entirely, he probably would've vomited all over the floor.

Deep in his heart, he knew Craig had gone too far this time. He also realized, that the ill-treatment he'd been suffering up to this point was also inexcusable, but he had been able to live with it; mostly because it hadn't managed to chip away at his fledgling sanity. Ever since Craig's parents had split up while he was in middle school, in what had become one of the most brutal, sensationalized divorces in South Park history, Craig had been on the warpath. He seemed to grow angrier with every passing year, and his sights had settled on Pip long ago, and he seemed to revel in brutalizing someone who'd been born to take it.  

Tonight, as he had knelt in front of Craig and taken him inside his mouth, something deep within him had begun to weaken. He realized now that he couldn't go on this way for very much longer, that it was beginning to kill him in more ways than one. Always before the abuse had mostly damaged him physically, but now it was shattering him internally.

Looking down at one of his slender arms, Pip was momentarily surprised to see teeth marks marring the white landscape.

_(he forced me up after he came...he forced me to kiss his mouth...he bit me so hard when I screamed...so hard...)_

Pip shook his head. It was flooding his brain again, the memories...the...

_(he licked it off my lips...his stuff...it filled my mouth...it bled where he bit me...why...why...WHY?...)_

The memories were coming to him faster. Pip gripped his head with his hands, willing the thoughts to go away, to stay away.

_(But, no! After he was done getting off he STILL BEAT ME!...then left me to cry on that cold floor...so much BLOOD!...!)_

"STOP! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" Pip screamed, beating his fists against his head. "JUST STOP!" He began to sob. Why couldn't the thoughts just die? The abuse had already happened. Why did it insist on reliving itself inside of his brain? Where he couldn't possibly make it stop...?

Pip just stood in the middle of his bathroom and cried. He didn't even notice when the towel that was resting around his hips fell to the floor, leaving him naked to the steam in his bathroom, revealing every bruise and scar that tainted the porcelain beauty of his flesh. Blindly, he opened the bathroom door and stumbled into his bedroom. Falling onto the bed, he curled himself into a fetal position and sobbed even harder, and vaguely he was glad his foster parents weren't home to hear him carrying on this way.

He cried at the memories of what Craig had done to him, and he cried about the abuse that stretched before him; where would it end? Would someone finally put him out of his misery or would this Hellish trend just continue until his body finally gave out? How far would Craig go the next time Pip pissed him off? The thought of Craig's cruelty made Pip's tears slow, and fear made his body rigid. What was he going to do?

"Looks like someone could use a little help." A sly voice spoke from the corner of his room.

Pip's eyes shot open. Suddenly, he realized he was no longer alone in the house.

"Scratch that. It looks like someone could use a LOT of help." The voice continued. "Would you like that, Pip. A helping hand?"

Slowly, Pip turned over on his bed, every bruise on his body screeching at him to stay still and rest. He gasped.

A face from years ago looked back at him. It was a face that frightened him more than Craig's, if that was even possible.

 


	4. Chapter 4

_Look at those eyes_ , he thought, wistfully. _They're just as big and blue as they were ten years ago. Sure, they're darker right now because he's afraid, and his skin isn't as pretty as it once was, but bruises can be fun. Pretty soon I'll be tracing them with my finger, and hopefully, I'll be creating more._

The boy from the shadows had stepped into the light. Before him, Pip was stretched across his bed, so surprised at his sudden presence that he didn't even think about covering up his naked body. The pale nature of his skin blended almost perfectly with the sterile whiteness of his sheets. The rosy robustness that had been Pip's in his youth was gone now. Frailty, no doubt caused by years of abuse and fear, had taken its place. Looking upon his naked form, the shadow-boy was suddenly overtaken with images of princesses waiting in faraway castle towers and brilliant stars sliding through endless space. The rigid bones of Pip's body called to him in a way that was both primal and overwhelmingly pleasurable.

"W-who are you?" Pip whispered into the silence. "How did you get in my room?"

The interloper stretched languidly and rearranged his position on Pip's computer chair. Without bothering to hide it, his eyes traced the contours of Pip's body, the sight of which brought a feral smile to his mouth; the dark stirrings of arousal rearing up in his groin.

"Do you always go to bed this way?" He asked, sidestepping Pip's question.

Looking down, Pip finally caught on that he was stark naked in the vicinity of what seemed to be a total stranger. Frantically, he yanked the sheets over his body, his face breaking out in a feverish blush. With the sheets surrounding him, the stranger could only see his small face and his large, shadowed eyes. A crazy tenderness briefly flashed through his head.

Showing a surprising amount of bravery, Pip snapped back, "I can go to bed naked if I want to! Who are you to barge in here and judge me? Why don't you just leave?"

"After seeing the Promised Land? Are you kidding me right now?" The stranger laughed, his teeth glittering in the lamplight. "Haven't you missed me, Pip? I've missed you."

"I don't even know who you are." Pip answered, suspiciously.

"Oh, that wounds me, Pip! I came all this way just to see you and you don't even remember me." He assumed what was supposed to be a sad face, but he knew it was most likely horribly grotesque.

"Come on, Pip. You know me! You're not even trying here!"

Pip's face was still riddled with suspicion, but the stranger could see that the cogs and wheels inside his head were slowly beginning to turn. Looking at him closely, Pip's face flashed momentary realization. Just as quickly as it came, though, it died.

"I'm...I'm really drawing a blank here." Pip faltered. "I really can't remember who you are, I[m sorry." He cringed back into the sheets like he was waiting for a blow.

"Maybe I can help jog your memory then." The stranger said. Slowly, he rose from the computer chair and walked towards Pip.

...

Pip's heart was beating a terrified staccato in his chest as the stranger slowly advanced on him. The soft feeling of his sheets provided brief comfort, although that comfort was hindered by the knowledge that he was completely naked underneath it. Even when Craig had forced Pip to service him in the hallway at school, he couldn't remember feeling as vulnerable as he did at that moment.

The stranger stood slim and straight as an arrow in the middle of Pip's room. Everything about him seemed menacing; from the black hair that covered his head to the black clothing that hugged his body. Pip decided the boy reminded him of a panther, stalking its prey with a body made lean and sinewy with tightly-packed muscle. A faint five o'clock shadow obscured his face, intensifying the panther-like impression he made. As he came closer, Pip could feel his body tightening up, his muscles and bones aching beneath his skin.

"What are you going to do?" Pip asked, anxiously. His voice sounded exhausted and paper-thin. He wasn't sure he could endure another round of abuse.

"I'm going to help you remember me, Pip." The stranger answered. "I thought for sure that my face would be enough, but I guess enough years have passed for you to forget about me entirely. That really hurts, man." A sudden smile split his face.

The stranger had made his way across the room and was now standing right next to Pip's bed. Pip stared up at him, the man seemingly miles tall and powerful beyond measure. Cringing, he pulled the sheets ever tighter around himself. Reaching out a hand, the boy drew the sheets away from Pip's face, the movement surprisingly gentle. Fear made Pip go limp on the mattress and he didn't try to fight the stranger at all. Without a word, the stranger knew that Pip had surrendered himself completely to his will; at least for the moment.

Tears began to fall down Pip's face, belying his seeming acceptance of the situation. The stranger caught one on his finger, lifted it to his mouth, and tasted. Pip watched his pink tongue, seemingly mesmerized. His lips were parted slightly and his skin was flushed a carnation pink, and the stranger was rather shocked by the casual seductiveness Pip possessed.

 _And he doesn't even realize it!_ The stranger thought, joyfully. _No wonder he's always being hammered on; I'm sure he's constantly making people feel things that are totally unexpected!_

The stranger stooped down next to Pip's face, closing in. Pip's scent reached his nostrils and it was a mixture of pine and terror-sweat and he inhaled deeply. Leaning over Pip, he placed his lips next to his ear and began to whisper:

"I know you remember me, Pip. Once we were outcasts together, and all we had was each other. You remember."

Beneath him, Pip's body quaked and shivered. A soft gasp escaped his lips. The stranger pulled away to look into his eyes, and this time the momentary flash of realization was back, and it didn't disappear.

"Damien?" Pip whispered, hoarsely. "Is that you?"

 


	5. Chapter 5

"It took you long enough," Damien commented wryly. "I was afraid I was going to have to spell it out for you."

Damien shifted his position to sit on the edge of Pip's bed. Looking down at him, his eyes caught the light of the lamp, turning them red momentarily. Pip stared at him, his eyes looking like a pair of saucers.

"What are you doing back in South Park, Damien?" Pip asked.

"I just have a little business to take care of." Damien answered vaguely. "And besides, I was getting a little tired of the pressures in Hell. Being the son of the Prince of Darkness can really take its toll on a person after awhile, y'know?" He rolled his eyes.

"No, I can't really relate to that, actually." Pip answered honestly.

A brief feeling of annoyance passed through Damien's head. Here was yet another reason why Pip was being beaten up constantly - he couldn't even engage in simple small talk correctly.

"Anyway," Damien continued, "I've never forgotten about our time together. Even as I was tying someone to the Wheel or closing my millionth iron maiden, you were always in the back of my head."

Pip's innocent face looked surprised. "The Iron Maiden? They're making you torture people?" His voice sounded stricken.

"Of course, they are, numb-nuts," Damien replied, exasperated. "What do you think we're running in hell, a sushi bar? Jesus, I didn't remember you being this dense when we were kids."

Pip looked ashamed. "I-I'm sorry, Damien. I guess I'm not thinking very clearly right now." He looked away.

Momentary, unexpected guilt made Damien change his tone. He should go a little easier on the kid...after all, he had seen him get face-raped mere hours before their reunion. Clearing his throat, he said, "speaking of torture, it seems like you've been enduring your own little slice of hell here on earth. How are you holding up?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Damien!" Pip said, looking embarrassed. "Everything has been just fine here since you left. Why, the other kids and I have really warmed up to each other!"

Damien stared at him in disbelief.

 _He is probably the worst liar I have ever encountered,_ he thought to himself. _And living where I do, I've seen some of the worst ones. Even if I hadn't seen the abuse first-hand I wouldn't believe him in a thousand years._

Deciding to play dumb, Damien picked up the farce. "Oh, really? Do tell."

Pip's face underwent a strange transformation as he spun a flimsy lie into a full-fledged tale of popularity and acceptance. If Damien had possessed some sort of heart, it would've almost made him feel sorry for him.

"Where do I begin? There's so much to tell, since you've been gone for so long, Damien. Every weekend I'm invited to parties and I've been asked out more times than I can remember. I always turn those types of invitations down, though. I'm just not interested in the girls at school - they're so flighty, so irresponsible. I wouldn't be able to stand going anyplace with them, you know? I guess I just enjoy the notion of being liked." He went on and on, concocting more stories and digging himself deeper into a quagmire of fancy.

After a few minutes, Damien couldn't stand his chatter anymore and clamped a hand over Pip's mouth.

"Cut the crap, Pip," he said, softly. "You and I both know you just spewed out a whole mountain of shit, so, let's just stop kidding ourselves, okay?"

Slowly, Pip nodded his head beneath Damien's hand. The warm blue that had made his eyes into a tranquil sea for a moment dimmed again; became murky. Taking his hand away, Damien brushed Pip's cheek with his fingers. "Now, let's have the truth okay? You can start with the events of today, if you'd like."

Pip looked confused. "The events of..." He trailed off, recognition dawning on his face, and his cheeks flamed an angry shade of scarlet. "Y-you saw that? You saw what Craig -"

"Yes, I did." Damien cut him off. "I stood in the shadows and watched the whole thing. You should really be a fluffer on a porn set, Pippy - you certainly have a talent for that sort of thing." He smiled, and the action was decidedly wolfish.

Pip clamped his hands over his face. "Oh my God, Damien! If you saw what was going on, why -"

Damien cut him off again, "Why didn't I stop it? Now, why would I do a thing like that, Pip? Huh?"

Pip looked at him from behind his hands. "Because I thought we were friends, Damien. Aren't we?" His eyes beseeched Damien to be kind.

"There's something you don't seem to understand, man." Damien said, and his tone was mixed with annoyed amusement. "I am the Devil's son. I am going to take over the kingdom of Hell when my father abdicates the throne - no part of me is human. Essentially, I am a demon masquerading around in a human suit." He spoke to Pip as if he were five years old - and partially brain-damaged. "In fact, I could kill you in under 15 seconds by simply doing this -"

He snapped his fingers and Pip suddenly felt his throat close up. Clawing at his neck, Pip gasped for air, his eyes bugging out of his skull.

Damien snapped his fingers again. The tight hold on Pip's throat disappeared. Terrified, Pip gulped in large mouthfuls of air.

"I know what you're thinking," Damien said, ignoring Pip's fear, "but rest assured, I did not steal that move from Darth Vader. My dad taught George Lucas that one, they're pretty close, you know."

Pip simply nodded, afraid that Damien would steal his air away again. Timidly, his voice made rough from the momentary bout of strangulation, he asked, "then why are you here, Damien? Why did you say you missed me if you're not even, I don't know, capable of feeling remorse?"

"It's like I told you before, Pip. Sometimes a guy just has to get away. I was getting tired of my father's endless demands and I just needed a little vacation. That's about it."

"But you said you had some business to take care of?" Pip asked.

Damien smirked. "You're not as dumb as you look, you know that? You're right, I did mention some business I had to attend to, didn't I?"

Pip nodded.

"It's nothing to really talk about. The balance in Hell is being thrown out of whack, mainly because of Styx. You can't properly drown the wrathful and sullen for all eternity if the composition of the river is fucked up, you know?"

 _I can't believe how casual he is about something like that_ , Pip thought to himself. _It's almost as if he's talking about the weather, or a movie he'd like to see. I never realized how dangerous Damien really is. I wish he'd just go away. I've had a hard enough day as it is._

Damien looked at him sharply. "Oh, did I mention I can read minds?"

Pip sucked in his breath, alarmed. "N-no, you didn't -"

"Well, I can. Not every mind, actually, but those that are weak and innocent." He looked at Pip with a playful smile. "And guess whose mind is especially weak and innocent?"

Pip didn't bother to answer. Rather, he tried to wipe his brain completely clean.

"That's better." Damien said. "Anyway, as I was saying, the river's constitution is becoming alarmingly disproportionate and I was sent to earth to pick up supplies, to to speak. We have creatures whose sole job is to keep that river satisfied but they're just not doing their duty. My father figured I was perfect for the job so, here I am." He thought for a moment. "You know, Styx is like a living thing, Pip. Sometimes I can hear it breathing and pulsing, like it's becoming angry. It's very concerning for me."

Pip struggled to understand this bizarre onslaught of information.

"So, you're here to collect..."

"Blood. Exactly. But not just any type of blood, Pip old friend." He smiled. "I need blood from the opposite ends of the human spectrum. What do you think that means?"

Pip tried to answer, "I'm not really sure, Damien. Does it mean you need bad and good blood?" Wearily, he waited to be chastised for giving the wrong answer.

"Very good, Pip! That's exactly it." Damien ran a finger down his cheek. "I need the blood of the innocent, as well as the blood of evil. And you're going to help me find it. Styx requires a careful concentration of ingredients; there needs to be balance, of course. Why do you think Heaven and Hell exist in the first place? Balance."

"What, I am?" Pip squeaked incredulously. "I-I don't want to hurt anyone, Damien."

"Oh, yes you do," Damien said, shrewdly. "You want to hurt people more than you'll ever know. Revenge is always at the back of your mind and you know it. Don't you?"

Pip became silent. Damien nodded knowingly.

"You won't say it out loud, but I know what you're thinking. I always know what you're thinking. And right now you're imagining tearing Craig into a million pieces and urinating on the remains."

Startled, Pip said, "Urinating on the remains? I never thought that for a moment!"

Damien laughed. "I know. I just added that part because I find it amusing. So, are we partners or what?"

"Hold on just a minute, Damien!" Pip cried out. "I haven't agreed to anything! I don't even know why you're here! You said yourself we're not really friends, so why should I get involved with any of this?"

Damien looked deep into his eyes. "Because we need each other, Pip. I need you because you attract all of the crazies of this town. Somehow or another, you draw the lowest of the low out of the fray and right to you. You'll make my job exceedingly easy in that regard, and I'll be able to squash those pieces of shit as easily as I can say the word." He sighed a little. "And you also have the capability of bringing out the good in people, I'm sure. You're so vulnerable, almost like a little doll, and I have a feeling there are people out there that just want to take care of you; decent people. We just need to find them. So, you see? All types, Pip; they'll flock to you and by extension, myself."

"And why do I need you?" Pip whispered.

Suddenly, Damien reached for Pip's arm and yanked him from his bed. Pulling him close to his chest, he spoke his next words right against Pip's mouth.

"Because I can take care of those motherfuckers that are constantly giving you a hard time, Pip. I can make it so they never lay another finger on you. Wouldn't you like that? Wouldn't you like to be left alone? Or would you rather Craig have his way with you again? Because I can assure you that he won't stop at violating your mouth next time. I read his disgusting mind and I could see quite plainly that he intends to take you completely next time, and he won't be nearly as gentle with the rest of you as he was with your mouth."

Pip quivered against Damien's body. "You're not serious. You're lying, and you'll say anything to get me to help you...you're sick...!"

"Oh, I may be sick, Pip. But at least I don't want to rape you - yet." He laughed against Pip's ear. Pip tried to pull away and found that he couldn't. Damien was freakishly strong and he was completely at his mercy, but he always seemed to be at the mercy of others in one way or another.

"Fine!" He sobbed. "I'll help you! Just leave me alone for tonight! I can't stand anymore!"

"Good boy, " Damien purred and let him go, making Pip fall back against his pillows, his pale skin flushed and moist. A circlet of bruises was beginning to appear around the arm that Damien and grasped. "I knew you'd see things my way."

Pip closed his eyes tightly, wishing Damien away. Faintly, he could feel Damien's weight disappearing from his bed, and he prayed that when he opened his eyes, Damien would be gone.

After a few minutes, silence heaped itself on the room, and he dared to open his eyes; his heart thudding like a bird's wings in his chest.

Once again, he was alone in his room. It was as if Damien had never been there in the first place, and the only trace of him that lingered were the bruises seeping through Pip's skin.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Early the next morning, Craig was hurriedly getting ready for school when thoughts of Pip flitted through his mind. Fleeting feelings of shame and mortification passed over Craig but they disappeared as quickly as they came. The fact that they even passed through his head kind of pissed him off, and his fist clenched a little

"And I thought Bebe was the cock-sucking champion!" Craig said aloud. He wasn't afraid of anyone hearing him as his sister and mom had already left for the day. Besides, it kind of turned his crank to hear his most secret thoughts being said out loud. "That little British kid has her beat, hands down."

Craig stared at himself in the mirror as he pulled his jeans on and his thoughts traveled back to the night before, and once again he was in the dim corridor of the school. He could feel Pip's mouth surrounding his cock and he could hear the moist sounds his lips made as they hurriedly sucked. Just thinking about it made Craig groan deep in his throat, and the delicious memory of Pip deep-throating him made his crotch begin to awaken. These thoughts, coupled with this sudden arousal, were almost enough to fight back the ever present rage that had come to define his personality in the past couple of years, since the shit show of his parents' slaughtered nuptials became a source of gossip for every disgusting household in South Park.

The sound of his cell phone ringing broke into his anger driven lust, and he pulled it out of his pocket; already annoyed at being interrupted during a reverie. He saw that it was Bebe on the other end which enforced his irritation. He answered.

"What do you want, Bebe?"

Craig lapsed into silence as he listened to her prattle on; the erection that had begun to develop just a few minutes before immediately stopped.

"Yeah, yeah. I guess we'll have time before school. Uh-huh. Okay, I'll be over in about five minutes. Yeah, okay, bye."

He hung up, snapping the phone closed in annoyance. For some reason, Bebe just wasn't doing it for him these days. Maybe he should just dump her ass and move onto another person, it's not like there was a dwindling supply of sluts at South Park High or anything; both male and female.

His reflection caught his eye again. The truth was written all over his face, as much as he hated to admit it, though the thrill of it made his erection start to stir again.

"No, those other idiots won't do it for you either," He said to himself. "You know what you want, don't you?"

Nodding his head, his thoughts turned to Pip so easily it scared him. His growing attraction to Pip both thrilled and infuriated him. On the one hand, he wanted to give it to the British boy good, but on the other he wanted to murder the little fuck. It felt like his desires and his rages were constantly fighting for precedence, and he was just kind of along for the ride.

"I suppose I'll just have to wait to see what happens first, won't I?" He asked with a smile. Reaching down, he grabbed his bag from the floor and ran out of his room. At the very least, Bebe was waiting for him, and he sure could afford to blow off a little steam before school.

****

Pip woke up that morning to a puffy bottom lip and an arm covered in bruises. Without even bothering to look, he knew the rest of his body wasn't in any better shape. Heaving himself out of bed, he dressed himself slowly, taking care not to move too suddenly. Like an unseen monster, the pain in his body was waiting to pounce at the least provocation.

His foster parents, who were often out of town because of business, had already left early that morning for Houston and Winnipeg. On the counter he found a hastily written note:

_Left money for your lunch on the counter. We'll miss you, sweetie. Call if you need anything._

_-Mom and Dad_

"More loving words were never written," Pip sneered. His parents were one of the few issues that made him truly angry. "At least they were nice enough to leave a pot of cold coffee for me."

On the mornings after severe beatings, Pip could usually only stomach a cup of warm coffee. This morning was no different in that regard. As he was sipping the comforting liquid, re-heated and heavy, the events of the night before nearly punched him across the face. Almost choking on the drink, he set his cup down with a clatter and stared into space.

"Damien." He whispered. "He's back...and he wants me to help him..."

Pip looked around suspiciously. He was afraid if he thought about Damien too much he'd just appear out of nowhere like last night. This thought reminded him of something else.

"He saw me naked!" Pip said, his face reddening. "As if what Craig did to me wasn't humiliating enough, but Damien actually saw me sobbing on my bed, buck naked!"

Feeling heavy, he sat down at the kitchen table. Disjointed ideas came to him in waves.

 _Maybe I was just imagining things_ , he thought, helplessly. _I mean, I did just have a pretty horrific encounter with Craig. Maybe I thought I saw Damien because of post traumatic stress disorder or something._

Looking down at the bruises circling his arm, he knew that couldn't be true. Sure, Craig could've put those bruises there, but he didn't offhand recall him grabbing him about the arm yesterday. He did, however, remember (quite vividly) Damien gripping his arm tightly as he whispered horrible things against his mouth.

 _He wants me to help him collect human blood. I'm just supposed to line up sacrifices for him!_ The very thought filled him with terror.

"I can't do that!" He said aloud. "I just can't!"

A secret voice reared its head inside his mind just then, and while it was brutal in its prettiness, it was also like acid searing through him.

 _Oh, yes you can, Pip. You can because you want to_.

"I do?" Pip asked the silent kitchen. His eyes became slightly unfocused as he stared into space, as the voice continued to whisper awful truths deep inside his brain.

_Yes, you do. You want to make them suffer, make them suffer the way you have. For once, you want to be the one wielding the knife, the one drawing blood. Don't lie to yourself. You're not nearly as nice as you want people to think._

"I'm not." Pip said, this time not asking a question. This was a statement of fact, as much as he hated to admit it. He was not the nice person he displayed to the public. After the years of torment he'd suffered, how could he help but become a little cruel himself? He was certainly bitter enough and he supposed evil wasn't too far behind.

Still, I can't do this. I don't want to become like Damien, completely devoid of remorse or forgiveness, he told himself. I just want to make it through the last year of school and get the hell away from this town. I don't want to take part in this whole mess; I'm so tired as it is.

"I'll just tell Damien I refuse to help him," He decided, feeling an unexpected surge of courage. "He can't make me help him, after all."

 _Oh, yes he can_ , that small voice in his mind whispered. _And his punishments are probably far worse than Craig's could ever be._

"I'll just have to take that risk," Pip said, rising from his chair. "I'm sure he'll see reason if I explain it to him the right way."

Hurriedly, he finished the last gulp of coffee in his mug and left for school. He just hoped that his confident resolve could stand up to Damien's powers of persuasion.

*****

"Can that kid get any dumber?" Damien asked no one in particular at the same time Pip was making the dash to school. "What makes him think he could possibly "reason" with me effectively? I thought I made myself pretty fucking clear last night."

"Mmm, of course you did, Damien honey," the girl beside him murmured in the darkness. In the dimly lit hotel room, she gently reached up and nipped Damien's neck with her sharp little teeth. With careless grace, she draped herself across Damien's lap and ground against him delicately.

Absentmindedly, Damien grabbed one of her breasts roughly and squeezed. The girl gasped in pain, but then giggled, arching into his hand.

"That little bastard really thinks he can cross me, doesn't he?" He seethed into the rosy darkness. "No wonder he's always getting his ass handed to him, he's so hard to deal with! He never reacts the way he's supposed to!"

Swiftly, he reached out and grabbed the girl's other breast. This time he used them to pull her closer to him. Her yielding flesh, so supple and smooth, helped to calm his nerves, if only slightly.

"Damien, baby, you're being a little rough," she said, her voice breathy. She didn't dare push against him, but her voice told him to retain a little control.

"What? Oh, sorry, babe. It's just that kid pisses me off so much!" He tenderly kissed her nipples and she relaxed. "He knows I can hear his every thought and yet he still insists on trying to "reason with me." To disobey me! Where does he get his nerve?"

"Bend him to your will then." She responded, stroking his jaw. "You're good at that." Expertly, she rubbed against him a little more.

Damien contemplated this idea. "I suppose I could possess that Craig jerk," He mused. "I mean, the guy is already bordering on insane, it wouldn't be hard to push him over the edge. Pip would surely come around if he really had to deal with the full extent of Craig's capabilities."

Slapping the girl's thigh, Damien was suddenly excited to put this idea into action.

"Pip will be begging for my help once Craig really puts him through his paces! Baby, what would I ever do without you?"

She smiled, and because Damien could see in the dark as well as anyone could in the light, he saw it. It made him want to bend her over and take her. Hell, it made him want to bend that little British kid over and make him moan the way he had last night while in Craig's clutches.

But there wasn't time for that. He had to concentrate on infiltrating Craig's mind. Time was a-wastin', after all. Pushing the girl off of him in an unceremonious manner, Damien stood up and pulled on some pants.

Pip was about to learn a very important lesson about never disobeying his master.

In the darkness, Damien smirked; red eyes flashing.

 


	7. Chapter 7

"Hey, Craig," Bebe said, in her annoying baby voice, "Why didn't you call me yesterday? I really wanted to hear your voice. I waited all evening!"

"The lines go both ways, Bebe. You know that," Craig replied. He brushed a hand through his hair and pulled his signature hat onto his head. Looking over at her, he could see she was still in the process of pulling up her panties. Annoyance gurgled in his stomach.

"C'mon, hurry up or we're gonna be late," He said, picking up his bag. "I have a test in second period that I still have to study for."

"Okay, okay, hold your horses." Quickly, she pulled up her panties, straightened her skirt, and fixed her hair. Within a few moments, they were out on the sidewalk in the morning sunlight, hurrying towards the school.

"So," she began, slyly. "What were you busy doing since you didn't have time to call me?"

If there was anything Bebe was good at, it was not allowing a subject to rest. Craig groaned inwardly.

"I had to stay late at school, okay?"

"Late at school?" She repeated. "What could you possibly have been doing at the school that would keep you there all evening? I waited for you to call until eleven. Don't tell me you had so much homework you were at the school until then."

A brief flashback involving Pip's large eyes and wide-open mouth swam through Craig's brain. Shaking his head, he groped for an answer that would appease Bebe's incessant nagging.

"As a matter of fact," he said, his words clipped short, "I did have a fuck ton of homework to do. Didn't I just tell you I have a test in second period? I was studying for it all evening."

She looked at him closely. "If you studied for it all evening, as you claim, then why do you need to study for it today? This test can't be so monumental that -"

"Bebe, will you fucking cut it out?" He snapped, suddenly. "I'm telling you the truth, so why do you insist on trying to turn it into a lie? What's wrong with you? Have you ever stopped to think that this might be the reason why I never call you? I mean, who wants to call someone when they know they're going to be nagged until they want to shoot themselves in the face? Jesus Christ!"

Shooting her an angry look, Craig quickened his stride in an attempt to get away from her. He glanced back once to see Bebe staring after him, her face a mixture of concern and irritation. No doubt she was wondering where his sudden anger came from, because even though he was usually irritated, a little morning sex normally took the edge off and quieted him for awhile; gentled him.

 _God, if only she knew_ , he thought, and once again Pip's innocent face swam before him, laced with fear and what had to be desire; his gasping mouth full of Craig's cock.

****

"The time is now!" Damien laughed to himself. "His little mind is so scattered he doesn't know which way he's going, and it certainly helps that his girlfriend is being so annoying!"

As quick as a thought, Damien morphed into a small spider. Poised on the end of a tree branch, he waited for Craig to walk by and hurled himself onto his shoulder. In a swift motion, he sunk his fangs into Craig's flesh, releasing a small part of himself into his bloodstream.

"Ow!" Craig screeched, clutching his shoulder. Deftly, Damien sidestepped Craig's flailing hand and jumped off of his shoulder just in time. As Bebe came running up behind Craig, a concerned look on her face, Damien skittered across the pavement and disappeared into the grass.

"Now the fun can really begin!" He chortled.

"Craig! Craig! Are you okay?" Bebe asked. "What happened?"

Craig took his hand away from his shoulder, wincing in pain. "I-I don't know. I felt something bite me."

"Let me see," Bebe soothed, and reached up to move Craig's t-shirt aside. She gasped. "Oh, my God."

"What? What is it?" Craig asked, alarmed.

"You certainly did get bitten by something." Bebe replied, sympathetically. "Look. It's already starting to swell."

"Move your hand!" Craig said frantically. Craning his neck to look at his shoulder, he yelped when he saw the bite. It was indeed beginning to swell, and at its center it was a sinister shade of red. "What the fuck?"

"How do you feel?" Bebe asked. "Do you feel faint? Should we go to the hospital?"

Craig stopped to think, his mind muddled from the sudden pain. Revulsion flared in his stomach - what the hell had bitten him? Was it still on him? Quickly he began to slap at his body, making sure that whatever had bitten him was either long gone, or smashed into oblivion.

"Craig! Calm down! Do you feel okay? Tell me!" Bebe cried.

Craig tried to calm down, realizing he wasn't doing himself any good flailing around like a moron. "I-I feel okay, I guess." He managed to stammer. "I mean, it hurt like fuck when that thing bit me, but I feel alright now."

"Are you sure?" She asked, watching him closely.

"Y-yeah." He assured her, shakily. When she continued to watch him suspiciously, he gave her a lopsided smile. "C'mon, Bebe. You gotta learn to trust me eventually, right? When I say I'm fine, I mean it, okay?"

Reluctantly, the features of Bebe's face smoothed until there wasn't a hint of worry. Shyly, she reached for Craig's hand and looked into his eyes imploringly. "Okay, I believe you, Craig. But if you start to feel sick, you'll tell me, right?"

Squeezing her hand, Craig said, "Sure. Come on, let's get to school."

Bebe smiled happily and fell into step beside him, no doubt glad that they had mended their fences in the wake of Craig's misfortune. Craig winced, and he fought back the urge to touch his throbbing shoulder; he didn't want Bebe to start going at him again.

*****

"How long does it take for the venom to start working?" The girl asked. She was lounging on Damien's bed, clad only in a pair of panties and thigh highs. Her ears, which were decidedly long and elvish, were pierced multiple times.

"Long enough to lull that moron into a false sense of security," Damien replied. "When he least suspects it, he's going to start feeling very aggressive; even more so than usual. Whomever he's harboring secret desires for better watch out." He grinned, his teeth seemingly growing longer.

The girl sat up, her breasts jiggling slightly. "But what if Pip's not the only person he's got his sights set on?" .

"Believe you me," Damien said confidently, "I read that little punk's mind and Pip's name was plastered across every surface; like graffiti under an overpass. In fact, I've never seen such deep-seated obsession before. Even for me, it was rather unsettling."

The girl giggled. "Oooh, this is getting to be fun!"

*****

 _So far, so good_ , Pip thought to himself while scanning the hallway. He'd managed to go the whole day without encountering either Craig or Damien. Maybe he wasn't about to be destroyed or forced into providing sacrifices for a heartless demon.

"Get the fuck out of the way, Pip! People are trying to walk here!" Pip was pushed aside suddenly by Eric Cartman, his ample girth filling the hallway.

"Sorry, Eric, I didn't mean-" He started to say.

"Shut up, Pip." Stan Marsh said dismissively. "We're in a hurry."

"But-"

"Shut up, already!" Kyle Broflovski chimed in. "Hey, Stan, can I borrow your notes from English? I totally fell asleep at the end."

"Sure, dude," Stan said, rifling through his bag.

Wistfully, Pip watched as Kyle, Stan, Eric, and Kenny walked away down the hallway. He wished desperately to be accepted into a group, just once. Sighing, he turned around, wanting to visit his locker before he made his way home. As he turned, however, he encountered a solid force that knocked him backwards.

"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry! Please excuse - " Pip's words died in his throat when he saw who he'd run into. Fear prickled the back of his neck when he saw Craig standing before him.

"C-C-Craig," he stammered, "I-I'm s-s-sorry...p-p-please..." He trailed off, expecting a blow to come raining down on him at any moment. When it didn't come, he looked at Craig, puzzled.

Craig just stood there, smiling down at Pip in what seemed an entirely normal manner, at least for him. His eyes, which usually flashed with malevolence, were clear and serene. All about him hung an aura of peace, all of his usual violence completely absent.

"Hey, Pip, how's it going?"

Taken completely aback, Pip managed to say, "I'm okay, Craig. And you?"

Craig flashed a million dollar smile, his eyes crinkling up at the corners.

"I'm just great. Hey, there aren't any hard feelings about yesterday, are there? Because I really can't tell you how sorry I am."

 _He's sorry?_ Pip thought to himself incredulously. _He made me perform oral sex on him against my will on school property and he's saying he's sorry? What on earth is going on here?_

Pip was at such a loss for words that he stood there gaping at Craig for what seemed like hours.

"Hey, Pip, are you alright? I know sorry doesn't begin to make my actions okay, but I really am. If I can ever do anything to help you, just say the word, okay? I mean it." Craig took a step towards Pip, who cringed away. Even though Craig's words sounded nice, that didn't mean he really meant them. Pip knew better than to take him completely at face value.

Craig rested a hand lightly on Pip's shoulder and looked closely into his face. Pip gazed back suspiciously, not sure he liked what he saw coursing through Craig's eyes. They seemed serene, but it was as if Pip could see a storm gathering at their edges, ready to break free in a frenzy of violence. Casually, Pip backed away from Craig's hand.

"It's alright, Craig. I forgive you. Really, I do." He smiled thinly.

Still looking unsure, Craig nodded.

"Okay, well, I'll see you around. Don't forget what I said about asking me for help, alright?"

"I won't." Pip reassured him. "Have a good evening." Hurriedly, Pip rushed away from Craig, his stomach feeling a little sick.

 _I'm getting out of here,_ he thought uneasily, _I don't need to go to my locker that badly._

****

"What was that, honey? Why was Craig so nice to him?"

The girl was now sitting on the couch, nursing a screwdriver and wearing a red corset. Across the room, Damien was looking deeply into the mirror that showcased his prey wonderfully.

"The tension is building, kitten. The fun's not going to happen all at once. You know anticipation is usually better than the prize itself, right?" He looked over his shoulder at her and grinned.

She pouted. "This seems like a whole lot of trouble to achieve your goal, if you ask me. Why should you waste your time bending that Pip kid to your will when we could just be out collecting blood and restoring balance for the Master? That'd be a whole lot more fun than watching high schoolers play out their little melodrama."

"That's where we stop seeing eye-to-eye, hon," Damien said, absentmindedly. "You're always ready to spring into action, but me, I like to toy with my prey before I bite its head off. Besides, dad didn't just send me to earth to collect blood. He also said I should have a little fun, and that's exactly what I intend to do. And nothing gives me greater pleasure than screwing around with kids who are going through the cruel ravages of puberty."

 _And it certainly doesn't hurt when one of them happens to be a dear childhood friend_ , he thought, gleefully. _I was just lucky that he was in such close proximity to a raging psychopath._

Secretly, he was also eager to see Pip crack under his will.

 _This will teach him to disobey me,_ Damien thought savagely. _I still can't believe where he gets his nerve._

As his companion continued to pout, Damien turned back to the mirror, eager to see the events at hand continue to unfold.

 


	8. Chapter 8

"Craig, stop! You're hurting me!" Bebe cried out.

It was a typical Friday night at Craig's house. His mom wasn't around because she worked long hours after his cunt of a father decided to drop her like a sack of shit, and Ruby was at a slumber party on the other side of town. True to form, Craig decided to take advantage of the empty house by inviting Bebe over. Unfortunately, his growing aggression in the bedroom was beginning to take its toll on their lovemaking; a term he regarded with complete derision. There was nothing loving about what they did together.

"I can't, Bebe, it just feels so good. Please, just let me finish, and then I'll make it good for you, too," Craig moaned against Bebe's hair, which fell in luxurious waves across Craig's pillows.

"No, please, stop!" Bebe sobbed, trying to push Craig away from her. Her eyes were glazed with tears, her face distorted with fear. "I can't take it anymore. Just stop, Craig!" She practically screamed.

Startled by her outburst, Craig stopped momentarily and sat up. Looking down at Bebe, he seemed to examine her the way a scientist might examine an insect. For a brief moment, Bebe stared at him, and she seemed afraid at what she saw in his face.  
  
"What's wrong with you?" He asked her, annoyed and painfully horny. "You've been acting like a cold fish for days and it's starting to get on my nerves."

"What's wrong with me?" She yelled at him. "I told you that you were hurting me and you wouldn't stop! How could you even think of asking me what's wrong when you won't even listen to me when I'm crying? What's wrong with you?"

Angry sobs escaped her mouth then, causing her chest to heave up and down. Ignoring them, Craig's eyes slid from her face and down to her breasts. Without even realizing it, his tongue darted out of his mouth and slid along his lip. Through her sobs Bebe studied his face again, and this time she shifted a little, her face registering real fear.

"Craig," she said, in what she hoped was a firm voice. "Get off of me. I'm going home now. You're not acting like yourself."

Bebe attempted to push Craig off of her but he caught hold of her hands. Savagely, he grabbed them in one fist and shoved them over her head, leaving her practically immobile. Her legs, she realized with dawning fear, were already pinned beneath Craig's body. With terror-stricken eyes, she looked up at him, pleading silently for him to let her go.

"You know what your problem is, Bebe?" He asked her quietly, his voice warped and alien. "You're too soft, too spoiled. I believe I've been too easy on you."

"What are you talking about, Craig? You sound insane!"

He laughed. "What guy wouldn't be driven insane by a frigid witch like you, Bebe? How's a guy supposed to get off when the girl he's with is constantly complaining about being hurt, or being too tired? I'm so sick of this shit."

Bebe started to cry.

"I'm sorry for complaining so much, Craig, but you really were hurting me. Please, can I just go home now? I don't feel very well."

Craig watched her silently, letting the tension in the room collect until he knew Bebe's heartbeat had to be like a buzz in her chest; her fear smothering her. Finally, he released her hands, his eyes narrowed. He climbed off of her, picked up her clothes, and threw them in her face.

"Get the hell out, Bebe. I don't want to see you again. Got it?" He snarled.

Walking out of the room he called over his shoulder, "I'm going to the bathroom. When I come out, you better be gone, or you'll regret it."

Craig came back a short time later, and regarded his now empty room with cold amusement; he'd really hoped that she'd still be there.

Wouldn't that have been fun?

...

In the sanctity of the white tiled bathroom, Craig began to return to his senses. Gripping his head with his hands, he couldn't believe how he'd just treated Bebe. Disgust for his actions made him feel nauseous and tense. For the past couple of days, he felt like he'd slowly been losing control of himself, of his actions. He'd never considered himself an especially tender person, but now it felt like there was a constant drive to just rage; to tear everything apart around him. Who cared if someone got hurt?

 _I feel angry every moment of every day_ , he thought, anxiously. _Every little thing sets me off, and I can't concentrate worth shit. I'm constantly horny, my body aches and my cock is always fucking hard as a rock.  
_

He looked into the mirror, shocked by how pale and tired he looked. Dark circles stained the skin under his eyes, and red lines cut through the scleras. Craig had always been thin, but now his face was becoming noticeably bonier. It certainly didn't help that he vomited up almost everything he ate. The bizarre part of it was that, even though he hadn't had a complete meal in days, his body was overrun with dizzying amounts of energy. Relaxation or a full night's rest was out of the question.

Without warning, the bite on his shoulder throbbed painfully, making him wince and cry out.

"And this fucking bug bite isn't helping my mood one little bit," He seethed between clenched teeth.

Anger and fear mixed together inside his brain to create a very disconcerting cocktail. All of these strange symptoms had begun to crop up ever since he'd suffered that bite from God knows what. Maybe he should stop fooling himself into thinking things would return to normal on their own and go to the hospital.

"No. I can't do that," he said to the cold bathroom.

As it turned out, Craig, who prided himself on being a gigantic hard-ass, was deathly afraid of anything medical. In fact, last year when he'd broken his ankle playing football, his mother had had to threaten to take away his car in order to get him to go to the hospital. Craig was so stubborn that he would've dealt with the horrendous pain if it meant avoiding needles, probing fingers, and his own blood being spilled.

No, the hospital was definitely out. The only alternative, it seemed, was dealing with the discomfort on his own. Somehow or another, he had to find a way to cope.

Once again, the bite on his shoulder burned with a deep, stabbing pain. This time, Craig couldn't help but scream and he closed his eyes against the agony. He clutched his shoulder and leaned against the wall, the cold tile providing fleeting comfort. A few hateful tears slid from his eyes, making him feel fresh anger and sickening shame. The minutes slid over him like knives as the pain from the bite left him completely without breath. After awhile, the misery became so intense that he lost control and vomited all over the floor.

"Oh, God, what's wrong with me...please...just go away..." he pleaded to the emptiness, his voice cracking.

The agony seemed to be reaching a fever-pitch now, and Craig was almost certain it had to break or he would pass out. With his eyes still clenched shut, he waited out the storm, silently praying that he wouldn't tumble over the edge and become lost.

****

"Poor boy," the girl remarked in a bored voice. "And he thought he was such a big, brave, bad-ass!" She sneered and then laughed.

"Oh, how the mighty do fall," Damien said in an off-hand way. As much as he liked to see this Craig jerk feeling a little discomfort, he was anxious to have the next part of his plan be put into action. Nestling his head in his companion's soft lap, he languidly snapped his fingers.

"What did you just do, Damien honey?" The girl asked curiously. "What's gonna happen now?"

"Just wait and see, kitten." Damien smiled lazily, his finger sliding underneath the waistband of her lace panties.

****

 _Sweet Jesus, thank you!_ Craig thought as the pain in his body began to dissolve. Just when he thought he couldn't possibly take another second of agony, it disappeared as quickly as it came.

Keeping his eyes lightly closed, he contemplated taking a shower. The last round of pain had left him coated in cold sweat, and he felt uncomfortably moist.

_Yeah, I'll just take a little dip, and then maybe I'll call Bebe and apologize to her. Maybe I can persuade her to come back over -_

Suddenly, his body was wracked with spasms. The pain that had drained from his limp body mere seconds ago, was back in droves, this time with a heated vengeance. New droplets of sweat, large as quarters, seeped out of his skin and ran down his body in rivers.

 _Oh, God! Oh, good Lord...oh fuck...shit.. FUCK!_ His mind screeched. _SWEET FUCKING Jesus CHRIST!_

He fell to the bathroom floor, his body convulsing, his tongue flopping out of his mouth. This time he didn't think he'd be able to stay conscious, and he closed his eyes against the torment.

_Craaaiiiigggggggg..._

Through the pain-induced nightmare Craig thought he heard a voice whispering to him on the foggy plains of his mind. A voice which, upon contemplation, was deceptively soothing.

 _Crrrraaaaiiiiigggggg...!_ It called, breaking through the pain. _You know what will make things all better, don't you? You know what's causing your suffering, don't you...?_

In the silence of the bathroom, a shallow grunt escaped from Craig's slack mouth. Who was inside his head? What was it trying to tell him?

"Who are you? What do you want?" Craig managed to ask, his voice sounding pitiful and weak; how he hated it.

In his mind's eye, Craig could make out a dimly-lit figure walking on the red and black edge of his subconscious. This figure, which seemed sharp enough to cut blood, was a black mark silhouetted against the scarlet dome of his mind. The casual way in which it walked filled Craig's heart with dread.

"You might say I'm the Bringer of Truth," the figure whispered across the distance. "I know what's causing your pain, and I know what you need to do in order to stop it. If you're smart, you'll listen to what I have to say."

At this point, Craig was pretty sure he'd make a deal with the Devil to stop the suffering that was dragging him into Hell.

"Yes! I'll listen!" He pleaded. "Just tell me what to do and I'll do it. Please!"

Craig could feel the figure smile, a small action that threatened to rip his brain in half.

"Good", the so-called "Bringer of Truth" said, his voice smug. "In order to bring about your salvation, you're going to have to wipe out one person, and I think you know exactly who I'm talking about."

A face flashed through Craig's mind, and in his half-crazy-with-pain-state, he was convinced that the figure was indeed showing him the truth.

"Pip has to be destroyed." Craig said aloud. "That little prick has caused me enough suffering."

His eyes shot open, and they were now the sickening shade of congealed blood.

 


	9. Chapter 9

"Yes, mom. Everything's fine. Uh huh. Yup, I've been remembering to eat. Yes, I've been showering every morning. Geez, mom, I'm almost 18 years old, I really am capable of taking care of myself." Pip was becoming irritated, but he was rather adept at not showing it. His mother never seemed to catch on that he'd like to, quite lovingly, strangle her to death.

Pip became silent as he listened to his mother's endless nervous lectures. Well, maybe "listen" wasn't the appropriate word, but he kept an ear cocked for periods of time when he was supposed to make a response.

One occurred and he complied dutifully, "you're right, mom. I really do need to start thinking about college applications and maybe finding a summer job. Absolutely."

The hand that rested on his bare thigh began to clench, the knuckles becoming white.

"Right. Well, anyway, mom, I have a lot of homework to do so I'm gonna have to go now. Okay. Okay. Uh huh. Yeah, I love you, too. Talk to you soon. Okay, good night." With an exasperated sigh, Pip gently cradled the phone when he really wanted to hurl it across the room at the wall. He was so annoyed that for a moment he stared at the princess phone they kept in the living room, hating it and it's outdated heaviness. She always called on that phone instead of his cell, and he looked at it, resting on the coffee table.

 _Figures she'd call right when I was getting out of the shower_ , he thought. _At least I had enough time to pull on some boxers. The idea of being nude while talking on the phone with my mother is disturbing beyond words._

Sighing, Pip ran a towel through his hair, scattering droplets of water on the floor. His skin, which was still rosy from the heat of the shower, was exuding a pleasant spicy aroma. Thankfully, there hadn't been any fresh wounds to tend to that evening. Craig (and everyone else at school, for that matter) had left him alone the past couple of days.

 _And there hasn't been any sign of Damien_ , Pip sighed contentedly. _Maybe my luck is finally beginning to turn._

This thought made him take pause.

 _But, why?_ The tiny voice inside his head asked. _Why is Craig keeping his distance, being nice to me, even?_ Didn't Damien tell him that he'd read Craig's mind and seen his future intentions? That he planned to -

Pip shook his head. He couldn't even contemplate the idea of Craig violating him worse than he had before. Feeling restless, Pip threw the towel down and went into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water.

_I'm such a fool. Damien was probably lying to me. I mean, it's not outside the realm of possibility that he would make all of that garbage up to get what he wanted. Demons certainly aren't know for their honesty._

Taking a sip of the cool water, Pip almost began to relax. As he began to loosen up, his mind started replaying snippets of memories best forgotten; images of Damien pulling him close to his chest and breathing hot words in his face, his hold so tight on his arm. Against his will, Pip also remembered that, while Craig's presence had sickened him, Damien's breath had smelled sweet, almost like the scent of warm vanilla.

Pip's face flushed hotly at the memory of that heady aroma, realizing that a small part of him had enjoyed having it brush across his mouth. In an almost hypnotic motion, Pip idly stroked the cluster of bruises Damien had left on his arm, and the brief throb that accompanied his touch filled him with an unexpected feeling of desire.

Lost in his memories of Damien's scent and strength, Pip's mind forgot Craig entirely for the moment. Instead, thoughts of Damien took complete control of his brain. Fearfully, Pip realized that the same part of him that had enjoyed Damien's sweet breath on his flesh wanted Damien to appear that very moment, while night descended outside of his window and he was very vulnerable.

...

Skulking through the shadowed streets with his head down, Craig felt like he was coming out of his skin. Above him, the night sky was a swirling tempest of stars. The moon, which hung just above the horizon, looked like a silver dollar among the inky trees. Celestial beauty, however, was the last thing on Craig's mind, not when his senses and nerves had been kicked into a manic overdrive when the pain had finally abated.

Walking along the deserted streets, Craig was aware of every nighttime sound and smell. His blood, which throbbed in his temples, churned like angry fire through every part of his body. Grinning, he marveled at how alive he felt; how the presence that had infiltrated his mind had revitalized his spirit to the point where he felt capable of crushing anything in his path. Pip was about to take one Hell of a wild ride when he got his hands on him, that was for sure!

After all, the voice had told him, no _shown_ him, that Pip was to blame for his ongoing agony. And if the voice was capable of providing a much-needed respite from the throb of the wound on his shoulder, it was also capable of leading Craig to the truth. Besides, Craig wasn't about to argue with a force both unseen and obviously very powerful.

As he drew closer to Pip's house, Craig felt a moth fly by his ear, no doubt making its way towards the promising glow of a streetlamp. Quick as summer lightning, he reached up and clasped it in his fist, enjoying the way its feathery wings beat frantically against his fingers. The moth's obvious fear made Craig fantasize about Pip writhing in his hands, his heart beating against Craig's chest in much the same way as the moth's fluttering wings beat inside his fist. A feverish delight ripped through him as the fantasy inside his head intensified.

A small crunch and a sudden stillness inside his fist told him that he'd crushed the moth without a second thought.

 _Huh,_ he mused to himself. _I wonder if insects scream when they die? They're so small...how would you ever know if they cried out? Why do their deaths have to be so easy, like they never really needed to live in the first place?  
_

Opening his hand, Craig laughed as the remains of the moth floated away on the breeze. Even if they didn't scream when they breathed their last, he knew Pip was going to before the evening was over, and that was more than enough to satisfy him.

****

Pip was drowsing on the couch when a sudden tremor coursed through his body. Sitting up, he hugged his body against the chill of the evening, chastising himself for falling asleep in just a pair of boxers. Running a hand through his still-damp hair, Pip stretched the kinks out of his body, shut off the TV, and began to make his way toward the stairs. Exhaustion made it difficult to keep his eyes open.

A scratching sound, quite unexpected in the empty house, caught his ear. Not sure of where it was coming from, with drowsiness quickly overcoming him, Pip didn't bother to give the noise much thought. It was probably a stray cat prowling around outside, or the wind rustling the branches of a tree. Yawning, he turned the lamp off, drenching the living room in darkness. He was very much looking forward to a good nights' sleep.

****

Contemplating the flimsy panes of glass in the French doors, Craig almost giggled out loud. These doors, with their elegant curving doorknobs, were the only things standing between him and Pip's spacious living room.

 _This is going to be easier than I thought!_ He laughed to himself.

Reaching down, Craig ripped a length of material from the hoodie he was wearing (the thing was practically falling apart anyway - he wouldn't miss it) and slowly wound it around his right hand. Deciding that it would provide enough cushion for his knuckles, Craig neatly punched the pane of glass closest to the doorknob. It shattered easily.

He paused to listen. Thankfully, Craig had taken his time before breaking into the house. The light in Pip's bedroom (how he knew it was his room, he had no idea...he seemed to know everything on this particular evening) had been extinguished hours ago, but he hadn't wanted to run the risk of Pip waking up when he busted the glass. Instead, he had waited in the bushes lining the back of the house for hours, allowing the dim, eerie chill of midnight to seep into his taut muscles. Finally, the house had become dark and seemed to drift to sleep itself, and it became a quietly living thing, breathing deeply and unconcerned.

The minutes dragged by as he anxiously waited to make sure that Pip had not been roused by the sound of the glass shattering. The house remained still and quiet, and renewed confidence bloomed inside of Craig's brain. Carefully, he pushed his hand past the shattered remains of the glass pane and unlocked the door. On silent feet, Craig opened the door and slipped into the dark living room.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Unbeknownst to Craig, Pip had indeed been awakened by the sound of breaking glass. Lingering fatigue, however, had compelled him to stay in bed until the sound of the door opening roused him completely from slumber. The sound of foreign footsteps passing over the carpet made Pip's eyes open wide with breathless terror.

 _It couldn't possibly be mom and dad,_ he thought. _I remember them telling me they couldn't possibly be home until next week. And, besides, why the hell would they break a window in order to get inside the house?_

The moonlight falling through his window lit up the room, making it appear stark. Silently, he blessed the sterile illumination; he'd be even more frightened if he'd opened his eyes to complete darkness. Pip pricked his ears up, listening intently for any suspicious sounds.

 _Maybe I was just imagining things, or dreaming?_ Desperately, he hoped that was the case.

A muffled thud from below squelched the burgeoning hope. Droplets of sweat broke out across Pip's body, causing his hair and clothing to stick to his skin uncomfortably. Terror, like a thick jelly, filled up his chest cavity and threatened to choke the life out of him.

Slowly, Pip sat up in his bed. His frenzied mind struggled to come up with a plan of action.

 _Should I try to make a break for it?_ He wondered as the smell of his terror-sweat wafted beneath his nostrils.

Nausea washed over him at the odor of his own fear, making him feel cold and weak. The idea of getting out of bed and trying to make it out of the house overwhelmed him. What if he ran into the intruder as he tried to escape? There was no way he could overpower them. He wasn't a formidable opponent and the stranger probably had a weapon.

 _A weapon!_ His eyes popped open at the thought. _Dad's gun! if I can get to his study I can grab it out of his desk! The study's right down the hall, I could probably make it if I'm really quiet._

The notion of venturing out into the dark hallway with a stranger lurking about made him want to vomit. But what other choice did he have? He had to arm himself, and he couldn't just hide in his room and hope that the interloper overlooked him.

Still fighting the idea, Pip's mind turned to the window. Was there any possibility that he could climb out of it and jump to the ground? Taking a deep breath, Pip slowly climbed out of bed to check. Droplets of sweat ran down his body as he padded along on (hopefully) silent feet. Approaching the window, he could already tell that there was no way that he could jump out and survive. To begin with, he was too far up (he'd break every bone in his body, surely) and secondly, the wrought-iron fence that enclosed the yard was situated right below his room. Pip certainly didn't relish the thought of being impaled on its wicked black spikes. No, the window was definitely not an option. (not at this point, anyway...if the intruder did happen to corner him in his room, he'd jump. If he was going to die, he wanted it to be because he tried to escape, not while cowering at the feet of a stranger).

Pip's heart, which was already racing at a dizzying pace, thumped ever more wildly behind his sternum. Frantically, he tried to think of anything else, some way out...

"My phone!" He whispered almost soundlessly. _God, I'm such an idiot! Why didn't I think of that at the very beginning?_

Praying to God that his passage over the floor went undetected downstairs, Pip tiptoed over to his nightstand. Feeling along its surface, his fingers came across his iPod, a pile of change, a slim prayer book and -

 _Fuck!_ He screamed inside his head. _I left it downstairs after I got done talking to mom. She's not even here and she's screwing me over!_

Pip wanted to cry. Now he knew he had absolutely no choice, he was going to have to scrape up what little courage he could muster, open his bedroom door, and venture down the darkened hallway to his father's study. Taking a deep breath, he made it over to the door, and began to slowly open it, holding his breath and fighting back tears.

****

Craig bit down on his tongue to hold back a scream.

Fucking table! What the hell was it doing right in his path? Rubbing his leg, Craig prayed that Pip hadn't heard him make an ass of himself while traipsing through the living room. He waited in an agonized limbo, expecting the lights in the upstairs to come on at any moment. Minutes passed while he waited, but nothing happened. Breathing a sigh of relief, Craig continued wading through Pip's house. It filled him with secret pleasure to be inside of Pip's home when he was completely unaware of his presence. In fact, the idea sort of turned him on. He also thanked his lucky stars that he had overheard Pip talking on the phone with his mother. In his frenzied mood, he had completely forgotten about the idea of running into Pip's parents. Thank god they had jobs that had taken them out of town.

 _Pip's folks must be pretty loaded_ , he mused as he walked along. Idly, he ran a finger down a crystal candy bowl on the mantle and laughed to see a curio cabinet filled with Hummels.

 _Why does every middle-aged women seem to have such a boner for these stupid things?_ He asked himself. Craig was half-tempted to pop the heads off of the cheerful children feeding geese and holding huge umbrellas, but he refrained - there was always time for that after he took care of Pip.

Continuing towards the stairs, Craig slowed down to peer at the family portraits hanging in the hallway. Everyone at South Park High School knew that Pip was adopted, so he was not surprised to see that Pip's parents looked nothing like him. Pip's mother and father, who were rather nondescript yet tidy looking people, gazed out at the world with "Leave it to Beaver-stuck-in-the-1950's-not-a-care-in-the-world" smiles. Like the Hummels, Craig found this endlessly amusing. In contrast, Pip's smile in every portrait was one of wistful sadness. In fact, as the years passed, and Pip grew from an 8 year old cherub to a frail 17 year old, Craig noticed that his smile grew decidedly more sorrowful. The blue eyes of his youth became cloudier as he passed into adolescence., indicating a growing distrust with the rest of the world. Craig smirked. He was pretty sure he knew why Pip looked so sad in these pictures, and there was just something so satisfying about knocking that British kid around; though he couldn't begin to explain why that was.

Already bored with the portraits, Craig began to make his way up the stairs. Anticipation, like a wonderfully potent drug, swept through his body- he could practically feel Pip's glacial flesh sliding and ripping in his hands.

****

Pip was halfway down the hallway when he heard the first creak of the stairs. Managing to hold back a gasp of fear, he pressed a hand to his mouth and leaned against the wall.

 _I can't do this!_ He whimpered. _Oh, Christ, just make this night end already!_

His body shaking almost uncontrollably, Pip was able to regain enough composure to continue down the hall. Thankfully, his father's study was only a few doors down from his own room, and his dad never closed the door to it. His parents, being the regular Ward and June Cleaver of the new millennium, had nothing to hide, so why keep the doors closed? As the footfalls on the stairs drew closer, Pip slipped into the study, made his way over to his father's desk, and frantically ripped open the left-hand drawer. Drawing out a black case, he flipped it open and pulled out the gun. The moonlight glazed it, turning it into a chunk of ice in his hand. Although he knew it didn't make any sense, the revolver seemed to exude a comforting warmth when he wrapped his fingers around it. He checked, and he was thrilled to see it completely loaded with bullets.

Crouching low behind his father's large desk, Pip waited for the intruder to find him, or to take what they wanted and leave. He was almost certain that whoever was out there was finished climbing the stairs, and was scant yards away from his hiding place. The thought brought a fresh wave of terror, but this time it wasn't as overwhelming as when he was in his bedroom. With the revolver in his hand, he felt a little bit better; not nearly as vulnerable. Mutely, he decided he wasn't going down without a fight.

****

"Wow, that Pip kid has more balls than I thought," the girl remarked languidly as she licked a strawberry lollipop. Even though she really didn't have to eat to stay alive, she was still a slave to sugar. "It'll really blow if he shoots Craig, you know. The show will be over before it's started and we'll lose all of that delicious blood!"

Watching the mirror closely, Damien nodded.

"Sometimes that runt surprises even me. Who knew he'd be brave enough to go and grab his daddy's little gun? Pip might just be more interesting than I thought."

"So, what'll happen if Craig gets shot? I've waited too long for the game to be over so quickly!" His companion whined.

Exasperated, Damien looked over his shoulder at her. "You're forgetting that I injected a part of myself into Craig's bloodstream. Right now, he's a lot more powerful than a mere human so he'll be alright. Just wait and see."

Knowing better than to show her skepticism, the girl went back to servicing her lollipop. As her tongue slid over the candy-shell, she watched the mirror intently, hungry for the real fun to begin.

****

There were so many fucking doors. How was he supposed to choose when the options seemed endless?

Standing at the top of the stairs, Craig ran his eyes down the length of the hallway, wondering just where he should begin his search. In an action that surprised even him, he lifted his nose to sniff the air. A peculiar, yet enticing scent filled his nostrils, making him feel dizzy.

He knew immediately that he was inhaling Pip's aroma. Feeling limp with a deranged sort of ecstasy, he smelled the air again, drawing the scent of pine and musk into his lungs. Along with the pine and musk, he also detected another, more acrid aroma.

"Fear," he said, simply. "Oh, the poor thing is afraid. That must mean he's awake and he knows there's a stranger in the house with him. Well, that's just fine. If he's awake that means I don't have to work so hard to be quiet anymore."

With the scent as his guide, Craig followed it down the hallway. Like a wolf stalking its prey, every inch of his body was alive with the urge to pounce and kill.

****

The footsteps were coming closer now. They were also getting louder, as if the stranger didn't seem to care about being quiet anymore. As if to cement this idea, Pip could distinctly hear a male voice cutting through the dead air inside his father's study.

"P-i-i-i-p," it called, making the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

 _That voice sounds so familiar_ , he thought. _Familiar but warped somehow. Like it's being played backwards on a record player._

The knowledge that he potentially knew the intruder filled him with a different type of fear. Who was so desperate to hurt him that they'd break into his house in the middle of the night? Damien certainly didn't have any need to break into his house by force, not when he so easily appeared in his room the other night. And even though the kids at school were gigantic assholes, who among them could possibly be monstrous enough to -

"Oh, my God." Pip whispered, his eyes bulging crazily in his skull. "It couldn't be."

"Good evening, Pip." A voice above him purred.

Mechanically, his body so taut with fear that he was afraid that he'd break in two, Pip raised his eyes to look into the face of his tormentor. What he saw nearly made him faint dead away. As he suspected, Craig was standing before him, but his eyes were no longer his own.

They were Damien's.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Pip's hands, which were now feeling numb with fear, clutched the revolver tightly. Not wanting to take his eyes off of Craig but not bearing to look at him for very long, he turned his head slightly.

_I don't understand what's going on here. Why is Craig in my house in the middle of the night...? Why are his eyes so -_

"Isn't that cute? Pip managed to find himself a new toy!" Craig crouched down in front of him, smiling. "Are you gonna use it, Pippy, huh? C'mon, 'cos I'm waiting to see what you're capable of."

Feeling compelled to look at Craig now that he was scant inches away from his face, Pip dared to turn his head. As he did, a cloud scuttled across the sky to cover the moon. Temporarily, his father's study was plunged into blackness. No longer able to see Craig's face, Pip was sickened to see that his eyes seemed to be floating in the darkness, hovering like two open wounds close enough for Pip to touch. Nausea rose up in the back of his throat, filling his mouth with a sickening taste. Cringing away from those terrible eyes, eyes that seemed to breathe on their own, he nervously raised the gun.

"G-g-et a-a-way from m-m-e, C-C-raig." He stammered, the gun giving him the slightest bit of courage. "I-I d-don't know w-why you're here, b-but I-I'm sick of t-this!" Pip cocked the revolver. "Get out of my h-house or I'll s-shoot!"

The eyes slanted at the corners and pulsed like sluggish heartbeats. Without warning, Pip felt the smallest of touches brush against his face. Rearing back, his first impulse was to snap at Craig's hand with his teeth, but instead, he used the revolver to force it away.

"Don't touch me!" He shouted, surprised and somewhat elated that his voice wasn't shaking anymore. Pip was so tired of this endless game - he was ready to be done with it; he was ready to be free from the fear. "I'm not kidding, Craig. Get the hell out of my house or I'll kill you!"

"Try." Craig said, simply. "Really. Go ahead." His voice was gentle, as if he was Pip's mentor; desperate to see him succeed.

Put off by the calmness in Craig's voice, Pip almost lowered the gun. Where was Craig's usual ferociousness? He could tell by Craig's eyes that he was no longer truly Craig, but what had Damien done to him?

Pity for Craig washed over Pip. How could he kill him when he wasn't even aware of what he was doing? Sure, he couldn't stand the sight of Craig, and would rather him be gone from his life, but he didn't want it to end like this. Craig had had his own fair share of suffering in his life, even though that didn't excuse his actions, but Pip didn't think it was right for things to turn out like this for him; it was savagely cruel and unfair. If he shot Craig while he was in this state, he'd be no better than a cold-blooded murderer, just like Damien; a demon. Lowering the gun slowly, Pip took a deep breath.

"Craig, I know you're not yourself right now. You've been taken over by something. Can't you feel it?" Desperately, Pip tried to reason with "Craig." Maybe there was still a little part of him left, a part that could be reached.

"Craig" chuckled.

"Let's not turn this into a hand-holding session, okay Pip? I'm here for a very specific reason. If you don't want to play the game, that's fine. It'll be less fun for me, but I'm still going to have to take care of you."

Pip tried again. "But, Craig, you have to listen to me! You've been possessed! Damien-"

Pip's words were cut off when he felt a current of air brush him lightly. Even with the room plunged in darkness, he could sense that Craig's hand was once again snaking towards him. Rational thought was tossed aside as fear gripped him. Raising the gun swiftly, Pip placed his hand on the trigger, pulled it and shot. A brief burst of light spread across the room, and he could see the surprise in Craig's face.

 _He never thought I'd do it,_ Pip thought, crazily. _For once it's nice to be the one surprising people!_

But in the next second, remorse squeezed his heart.

_No, I didn't want to hurt him, not when he's been taken over by Damien; not like this._

"Oh, my God." Pip whispered. "What have I done?"

****

"Wow. The little bastard shot him. I must say, I'm impressed." Damien smiled at his companion. Finished with her lollipop, she was now sucking the last remnants of sugar from the stick.

"Yeah, who would've thought he had the capacity to kill?" She asked, the stick jutting from between her teeth.

"I can't wait to see his face when he realizes what's going to happen." Damien chortled. "If I could, I would frame it and hang it on my wall."

Curious, the girl watched the mirror. What was Craig going to do?

****

Craig didn't feel quite right.

Fire had erupted through his hand and his neck. Fire that had sent him reeling backwards.

 _That little fuck shot me,_ he thought, dazedly. _And here I thought he was going to wave his little gun around and act tough._

But, no, Pip had managed to do something that threw Craig completely off-balance:

 _He shot me_ , Craig repeated to himself, his internal voice eerily calm.

In the midst of his shock, Craig realized that the impact of the bullets had sent him flying against the wall. With the solidity of the wall propping him up, he was able to first feel his throat, which was sporting a gaping hole, and then contemplate his hand. As the moon darted out from behind the clouds, and its light once again poured into the room, he marveled at the fact that he could see straight through it. Slivers of bone mingled with broken flesh, and the sudden stench of charred meat crawled up his nose. Somehow, he managed not to gag.

Still lost in confusion, Craig stared through his hand, and saw that Pip was watching him with alarmingly large eyes. Bringing his hand closer to his face, he gazed at Pip through the hole like it was a deranged monocle. Pip's mouth gaped open, seemingly just as surprised at the turn of events as Craig was.

 _How am I still alive?_ Craig wondered. _And why isn't there more blood? Why isn't there any pain?_

These thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind when he noticed a black vapor seeping from his wounds. Like noxious smoke it filtered from his hand and throat and began to make its way towards Pip, who upon seeing it, tried to back away quickly. Yelping, he slammed into the desk, his face showing terror at being cornered. He closed his eyes as the vapor surrounded his face, and he coughed when it started to force its way inside his mouth and nose.

 _Put your trust where it belongs and I'll help you succeed,_ the voice from before whispered inside of Craig's mind. _Take him now, he'll be helpless soon._

The voice, which caressed Craig's brain lovingly, gave him renewed vigor. He pushed himself off of the wall, stood up, and started walking towards Pip, who was still trying to fend off the smoke to no avail.

*****

 _This cannot possibly be my life,_ Pip thought as one of Craig's scarlet eyes stared at him through the hole in his hand. _I did not just shoot someone. I did not just shoot my classmate. This is not happening. I refuse to believe it._

The horror of the situation flicked a switch inside of Pip's head. Memories from years ago, and even from yesterday, started to streak through him; endlessly they flashed, and he found that he was watching them as unwillingly as he watched that scarlet eye:

Getting stitches because he'd been pushed down the stairs at school...being spit on on the playground...being pantsed on the bus...the other kids getting together and writing a fake love letter to him...the elation he felt when he found it...that someone actually cared about him...the shame he felt when he found out he'd been duped...his mother stroking his face at night and telling him that everything would work out...the hate that grew inside of him everyday for her and for everyone else in this disgusting town...and finally, the memories of the night Craig violated him so deeply he didn't think he'd ever be able to look at himself the same way...

And now, in one hellish night, the climax that these events had been building towards finally erupted, and what were the remains? Pip clutching a gun while a childhood classmate was left with two hideous wounds. When was all of this madness going to end?

Another memory came to him unbidden, and it was more painful than the rest, because it made the least sense.

It had been a cold day in late winter, when the orange sun was glazing the snow fall on the playground equipment. Pip was waiting to be picked up, and he was never more aware of his orphaned state than when he was the last one waiting in the schoolyard for their parent to finally come. He'd been reading a book and trying to forget how cold he was, how lonely he felt, when he heard a tiny sob come from the playground. Following it, he had seen Craig sitting alone on one of the swings, just sitting as the orange light gilded the snow around him. Pip guessed that he was still waiting to be picked up too, and wanting to feel camaraderie with someone who might understand how it felt to be forgotten, he had drifted to Craig and sat beside him.

This was before the abuse had began so Pip hadn't felt afraid, only shy, really, and he'd pumped his legs a little and started to swing. He didn't say anything, he just felt like he needed to show Craig that he wasn't alone. The news had already broken all over South Park about his dad cheating on his mom, and leaving the family destitute, and the enormity of this information was too much for Pip's 12 year old mind to process. He just swung back and forth and watched the sun fade away in the distance, never saying a word.

Before too long, Craig had peered up at him through his tears, and he wiped a trail of snot from his nose. He'd watched Pip for a moment before he started to swing as well, and after awhile, they had both managed to start laughing, and while the sound was so fragile in the winter gloom, it had helped to fight away a little of the chill. They'd stayed that way until Pip's mother finally came to fetch him, and as he turned back to look at Craig, they'd smiled shyly at one another, and Pip almost thought he'd made a friend, until Craig's abuse started shortly after, when his situation reached a fever pitch and he needed to lash out.

Pip felt like he was going to start sobbing just thinking about that orange afternoon from so long ago, and after he'd managed to fight it away, a thought broke through the swirl of pain and fear and he realized that it was really quite important given the circumstances he was in. 

How was Craig still alive? He was sporting holes through his neck AND his hand, and yet he was still able to move and watch Pip with those sinister eyes. In fact, he didn't even seem to be in pain and the blood that should have been coating the floor was nowhere to be found.

Pip's eyes grew large when he saw a peculiar mist begin to float upwards from Craig's wounds. Craig's expression all at once changed from complete shock to supreme amusement. His eyes rolled back in his head, as if he were trying to watch something inside his brain.

The thick black mist was making its way towards Pip. His mouth dry, Pip screamed briefly and tried to get away but the desk behind him stood in his way. The vapor traveled towards him, and like poisonous fish it swam about his head and he began to choke as it streamed down his throat and invaded his nostrils. Struggling and coughing, he tried to cover his face. Utter fatigue draped a heavy hand across his body, though, and he was suddenly finding it very hard to move.

Immobilized, he peered through the smoke to see Craig standing up and slinking towards him.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Pip winced as Craig's fingers dug into the flesh of his arm. Struggling against the wave of fatigue that was quickly dragging him towards sleep, Pip was aware of being pulled down the hallway. Craig loomed above him, wearing a sick smile and a huge hole in his neck.

Craig seemed to be looking for something. He stopped at every doorway to peer inside, apparently disappointed by the contents of each room. Finally, as the ache inside Pip's arm grew and the chains of fatigue tightened, Craig appeared satisfied with Pip's parents' room.

"Perfect," Craig grinned down at his captive. "There's plenty of room to move around in here."

Pip groaned. He hated his parents' room. Everything inside of it always had to be placed just-so. Pip's mother, who suffered from severe obsessive compulsive disorder, even had a special comb to straighten the fringe on the oriental rug beneath the bed. The bed, an imposing king-size built of cherry wood with thick posts at each of its corners, reminded Pip of a massive beast lounging in the middle of the room.

With a grunt, Craig pulled Pip's body into the room. He nearly screamed when Craig's nails dug ever deeper into his skin.

"Up we go," Craig said cheerfully. Using an abnormal amount of strength, he roughly pulled Pip to his feet. Feeling woozy, Pip nearly fell over, afraid for a moment that he would pass out. When Craig steadied him, Pip found himself pressed tightly against his chest and the scratchy feeling of Craig's hoody brought him back to reality, and his odor (akin to brimstone and sweat) burned his nose. Sluggishly, he tried to look up into Craig's face.

 _This is insanity,_ he thought, sluggishly. _I have to find some way to escape. I don't even want to think about what Craig's going to do to me._

Weakly, Pip tried to push himself away from Craig; his muscles feeling like warm milk in his body. If only he hadn't inhaled that vapor - he felt so helpless! Determinedly, he tried to push himself away from Craig again.

"That's right, keep struggling. Tire yourself out. You're only making it easier for me. Besides, I like when you fight me, Pip." Craig smiled down at him almost tenderly. Pip wanted to cry from frustration.

Suddenly, Craig curved a hand behind's Pip head, jerked his face upwards, and brought his mouth savagely to Pip's. Pip, who hadn't been expecting this, fell completely against Craig, his hands grabbing at his hoody. His eyes rolled back in his head at the force of Craig's kiss and a tremor of disgust ran through his body. Like that night in the school, Craig's peppermint breath made bile rise in his throat.

 _No, not again!_ Pip's mind screamed.

Somehow, Pip managed to find the strength to take his hand and push it underneath Craig's chin, and, tiredly, he shoved Craig's face away; interrupting the kiss. His assailant's head snapped back, and for a moment, Pip thought he was going to fall backwards. Instead, Craig regained his footing, rubbed his chin, and looked at Pip with amused eyes. He began to chuckle.

Without Craig holding him up, Pip's legs almost buckled underneath him. Hurriedly, he reached for one of the bedposts and clung to it, his entire body shaking. With as much courage as he could muster, he glared defiantly at Craig. Fresh sweat broke out across his body,partly from fatigue, but mostly from a sudden adrenaline rush. Craig may have the upper hand, but he sure as hell wasn't going to roll over for him this time.

"Stop it, Craig. I know you're not even you anymore, so would you knock it off and just let me explain what's going on? If you don't, you'll regret it when you come to your senses." Inwardly, Pip was pretty sure that wasn't the case, but he still had to try and reason with him. Gulping down a few breaths of air, Pip continued, "Craig, Damien is back in town and he's using you to hurt me, to get me to do something for him. Can't you -"

Striding across the floor, Craig was in front of Pip in a heartbeat. Pip's words died in his mouth, taken aback by how swiftly Craig had moved. Without a word, Craig savagely backhanded him across the mouth, sending him crashing to the floor. Sickeningly, Pip felt his lip split open and the salty taste of blood slid over his tongue. Whimpering, he lay on the floor with his hair hanging in his face. From between the strands, he saw Craig's feet cross the floor and in a moment, Craig had yanked him to his feet again, this time taking him roughly by the shoulders. He shook Pip so hard he thought his neck was going to snap.

"I like it when you resist Pip, but I didn't say you could put your hands on me," Craig seethed. He continued to shake Pip savagely. Taking him by the throat, he slammed Pip down on the bed, then knelt on top of him to keep him from moving. "Here's where the real fun begins, Piparoo."

In a daze, Pip just stared up at Craig. Tears gathered in his eyes and began to fall down his face, mingling with the blood that was seeping from his mouth. The pink mixture trickled down his chin and became a pool between his collar bones. Seeing this, Craig bent down and gently lapped it up, making Pip cringe and squirm.

"Mmm, we're going to have to keep you from moving," he murmured against Pip's skin. "What would you suggest we do?"

Pip's face, which had flushed at the feeling of Craig's tongue on his skin, became even more red now. What kind of question was that? And what the hell kind of answer could he possibly want? Ashamed, he turned his face away from Craig.

Craig snickered. "Don't worry, I'll think of something."

*****

 _There's a box beneath the bed,_ the so-called 'Bringer of Truth's' voice whispered in Craig's head. _Open it. Its contents are just what you're looking for._

Craig smiled, and thanked the voice for its help. He ran a fingertip along Pip's jaw.

"If you move, I'll gut you like a fish. Understand?"

Pip nodded, not daring to look at Craig. His blond hair fell around his head like an angel's halo. Craig almost sighed at his beauty, but the desire to destroy it kept him from entertaining any tender notions.

Quickly, Craig slid off the bed and to the floor. Reaching into the darkness, he felt around for the box the voice spoke of. At first all he felt was dead air, but all at once his hand brushed across a smooth surface. Excitement coursed through Craig as he drew the box out from under the bed. The box, which was made of teak and surprisingly light, had a small padlock on the front. Craig eyed it with distaste.

 _Break it with your hand. You're quite capable of doing so,_ the voice said, encouraging him.

Exhibiting strength that surprised even himelf, Craig placed his fingers on the lock and twisted it off neatly. Even before it hit the floor, Craig had whipped the box's lid open. Looking just like a child digging through his toy-box, Craig sifted through the box's contents excitedly.

"Good, God," He said in awe. "Pip, your parents are complete freaks!"

A low groan was Pip's only response. Craig ignored it.

Slowly, and with great amusement, Craig pulled out a cavalcade of sexual devices and lined them up on the floor.

"Pip, you should look at this shit: there are ball-gags, whips, clamps, plugs..."

His voice trailed off. "Oh, Pip, we are going to have so much fun with these."

Standing up, Craig waved something in front of Pip's face. Pip shook his head, trying to understand what he was seeing.

Craig had managed to find two pairs of -

****

 _...Handcuffs? My parents have handcuffs in a box under their bed?_ Pip's mind screeched. And what else did Craig say...clamps? Plugs? What could they possibly need those for? Pip's mind reeled with Craig's discovery. _God, as if this night couldn't get any more horrific...!_

The moonlight winked off the metal surface of the handcuffs and Pip gulped. Craig snapped one pair open.

"Wow. These are some pretty heavy-duty handcuffs, dude. Your parents obviously didn't pick these up at Hot Topic for a couple of laughs. My uncle's a cop and his look almost exactly like these. Who knew your parents were such sexual deviants, huh?" Idly, he peered into the box again. "There's a mask in here, too. Would you like to wear it?" He cocked his eyebrow in a coy manner.

Still trying to come to terms with his parents having a box full of hardcore sex-toys, Pip's mouth opened and closed soundlessly. For years, he had considered his parents the perfect examples of puritanical repression. They lived their lives and ran their household like it was suspended in that special grace period right after World War 2, right down to his mother's sensible strand of pearls and lacy apron. Not to mention his father's after-dinner cigar and tight-lipped lectures. Reality, as he knew it, was effectively coming apart at the seams.

How the hell did Craig even know that crap was under there? He wondered. Or rather, how did Damien know that box was there?

_I know Craig isn't operating on his own here, and he's not nearly smart enough to think of all this garbage on his own._

Helplessly, Pip watched as Craig snapped open the other set of 'cuffs. Feeling like he was having an out-of-body-experience, he felt one set close around his right wrist, and then the other. Craig shifted Pip's head to rest on the pillows and then attached each set of handcuffs to the posts on either side of the headboard. The shame inside of Pip's stomach grew exponentially when he realized he was now completely unable to fight.

 _I can't believe I'm about to be accosted by my possessed classmate while in the crucifixion pose,_ he thought, almost delirious now from the absurdity (and terror) of the situation. _Not to mention the fact that it's happening on my parents' bed and with their handcuffs. Seriously, fuck my life._

Seemingly proud of his work, Craig stood back and rubbed his hands.

"Let's get the ball rolling!" He exclaimed.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Craig was taken aback by how visually arresting Pip was in this position.

In some small part of his brain, a part that hadn't yet been taken over by whatever _it_ was, Craig was able to drink in Pip's beauty and savor it. With his arms held aloft, Pip looked like a rare species of butterfly, his pale skin crisscrossed with quivering, delicate veins. His head lolled on his shoulder, causing his golden hair to obscure his face. Craig could only make out Pip's mouth, a stream of saliva filtering from the corner.

An even smaller part of Craig's red-fogged brain remembered the deep-seated desire he felt for this boy. Long before he simply wanted to violate him, he had wanted to possess him, a fact which made him hate himself, and the object of his desire. A question that often arose in his brain resurfaced now - why was Pip so enticing? What was it about him that made people want to hurt him? To claim him?

 _His kindness, for one thing_ , the uncorrupted part of Craig's mind answered. _I don't believe I've ever seen him hurt another living creature, and for all of the years we've attended school together, he's never been cruel to anyone. And God knows, he had every right to beat the shit out of all of us, pretty much._

A memory floated to the surface of his mind, suddenly. Craig had hurt himself on the playground, and in his mind, he could see the blood trickling down his arm, and for a moment, he could remember hurting. The other guys had continued playing kickball, unconcerned with his wound or his suffering, and not wanting to draw attention to himself, he had gone to sit on the school steps. He had applied pressure to the wound, but the blood wouldn't stop. Out of nowhere, a hand holding a thick wad of gauze appeared before him, and then kind blue eyes were watching him closely, waiting to see if he would accept help. Pip had managed to make the blood stop, had even put a band-aid on his arm, all without a word, and certainly not expecting anything in return. Craig could remember feeling ashamed that he'd been such a dick to Pip, and this shame had filled him with anger, too. Somehow, he had always known that Pip was a more worthwhile human being than any of them, even with all the suffering he'd been put through.

_Especially me.  
_

This knowledge, that Pip could never become as twisted and wretched as the rest of them, had filled him with a wistful love for the boy. But, over the years, the idea that Pip would go on being a potential beacon of hope in a sea of tired, useless people (himself included) had also filled Craig with an acidic hate. Even when he'd sat next to him on the playground that one cold day and silently promised him that he wasn't alone, that he understood, Craig had still started to feel hate for him, and instead of trying to stop it he had somehow helped it grow, even as the love remained; but it had been muted.

Craig also recollected pushing Pip down the school stairs soon after he'd nursed his wound. As Pip had been taken away in the ambulance, Craig had felt deep remorse for what he'd done. On the flip-side of his remorse, however, had been a savage hope that somehow he'd stamped out a little of Pip's light, that maybe he had managed to make him a little more like the rest of the world.

 _But I didn't_ , Craig thought, bitterly. _I'm not strong enough to devour such good. That's why I've been trying to chip away at Pip for all of these years and he's still the same. He will never change. My parents were strong enough to break me, and I was weak enough to let them, but Pip will just go on forever if I let him.  
_

His eyes passed over the immobilized Pip again and a low groan was escaping from his mouth now, and he was trying to lift his head. Craig's heart felt ripped in two at the sound of Pip's discomfort. Without warning, the feelings of wanting to maim and kill the boy were fading, while the desire to hold him and be cleansed of his sins was growing. A desperate part of him wondered if Pip could transmit some of his clear light to Craig, that maybe there was a part of him that could be salvaged.

 _What should I do?_ He asked himself. _I'm so confused...!_

 _Stop whining,_ the foreign voice chastised him. _Why are you getting bogged down with all of this sentimental bullshit? Don't forget that Pip is the reason for your suffering. Don't forget that no one is all good or all evil; Pip is just as capable of hurting you as you're capable of hurting him. Now stop fucking around and finish your task or you'll have to answer to me._

The last thought sent agony slicing through Craig's head. Before the curtain dropped over his brain again, filling him with murderous desire, Craig lamented ever succumbing to the voice.

*****

The handcuffs were biting into Pip's wrists terribly. No matter how many times he tried to readjust his arms, the metal of the bracelets dug deeper into his skin. A terrible numbness was sweeping through his upper arms as well, contributing to his discomfort.

 _I feel exhausted,_ _but that vapor won't let me fall asleep,_ he thought, drowsily. _Damien certainly thought of everything. He made it harder for me to fight back, but he wanted me awake enough to experience every little detail._

An eternity had seemed to pass as Pip waited for Craig to make the first move. Though he was too tired to look up, he could sense Craig standing off to his left, watching him closely. A fresh wave of goose-flesh broke out across Pip's body as the tension in the room heightened.

 _Why is he just standing there?_ _He has me exactly where he wants me; why doesn't he do something?_

With a monumental effort, he was able to turn his head to look at Craig. His bangs shifted, allowing Pip to glance at him without hindrance. What he saw made him feel even weaker than he already did.

Craig was indeed watching him, his eyes glowing like smoldering rubies. Behind him, however, was Damien, hovering in the air very much like the mist that had escaped Craig's wounds. He had his arms wrapped loosely around Craig's neck, and was languidly whispering something in his ear. All the while, his eyes never left Pip's face. The moonlight caught on one of his fangs when he smiled, creating a vicious sparkle. Momentarily, he stopped whispering in Craig's ear and spoke directly to Pip:

"He's grappling with his feelings of love for you," he explained in a lazy voice.

Pip's mouth opened in utter surprise. Craig loved him? But he thought -

"I thought he hated you, too," Damien said, interrupting his thoughts. "The big oaf is just so muddled about what he wants that it wasn't clear to me at first. But, yeah, he loves you, Pippy. Sure, it's a deranged and distasteful sort of love, but it's there. How does that make you feel?" He grinned.

"I-I..." He stammered.

Damien laughed harshly. "This whole thing is just so priceless. I started out wanting to teach you a lesson for even thinking of disobeying me, and now I've made this hilarious discovery. This night is just full of wonderful surprises, don't you think?"

Pip managed to find his voice. "I've learned my lesson, Damien. You've gone far enough. Let me and Craig go!"

Damien ran a hand through Craig's hair.

"Only on one condition; will you help me willingly?"

Pip's silence answered the question more effectively than his words ever could.

"I'll take that as a no. As you wish, then, the game will continue." Damien sneered.

Desperate, Pip shouted at him, "If you want my help so badly, why don't you just possess me the way you did Craig? Wouldn't that be easier for you? Why did you have to get him involved?"

Damien sighed.

"I only have so much energy, Pip. It would get really tiresome and boring having to control you constantly. Besides, it's more fun for me if you help me willingly. It'd be nice to corrupt you just a little." He winked at him.

Pip was angry now, finally; really and truly enraged.

"Stop playing with me like a toy, Damien! I'm tired of being forced into doing things I don't want to do!"

Damien's voice was becoming irritated.

"And I'm tired of your resistance, Pip. Really tired of it, actually."

In a flash, Damien was on top of Pip, straddling his body.

"I am the son of Satan and I will not be disobeyed. I like to play games like anyone else, but my patience with you is running really thin. Normally, I'd kill you and be done with it, but your tenacity is too intriguing for me to simply destroy it. I want to channel it in a different direction, preferably one that benefits me."

He dragged a claw down Pip's cheek, drawing blood. "I will have you for my own devices, and if that means leaving a few bodies in my wake, so be it. Now, will you help me, or not?"

An intense rage gripped Pip's mind now, and as stupid as he knew he was being, he shook his head. With the last of his energy, he reared back his head and spit in Damien's face. It sizzled where it fell.

Damien chuckled and allowed the saliva to linger where it would.

"So be it. I'll leave you and Craig to your little game. But, first..."

He placed a hand under Pip's chin and jerked his face upwards. Delicately, he licked the blood from Pip's cheek.

"I deserve a little reward for bringing you two together this evening, don't I?" He asked.

Damien disappeared from the bed and reappeared behind Craig. Brutally, he shoved him towards Pip.

"Get to it, little man. Your plaything is anxious to get to know you better."

With a wink, he disappeared as silently as he came.

 


	14. Chapter 14

"So, that kid actually loves Pip? How touching."

The girl rolled her eyes. She couldn't relate to or even begin to fathom why love was so fixated on in the human realm. Why didn't they just screw, tear each others heads off, and be done with it? It seemed so simple to her.

"Yeah, in his own twisted way. That's why he's getting harder to control, those repressed feelings are coming to the surface. The kid's body is weakening rapidly, too. If Pip doesn't agree to help me soon..." He trailed off, intent on watching the mirror.

"Yeah? What's gonna happen?" The girl asked, hungry for the gory details.

"Well, let's just say it won't be pretty." Damien responded. "I can only possess someone for so long before their body gives out. I'm hollowing him out slowly, and once there's nothing left, the host dies."

Her eyes lit up when she heard this. "Oh, Damien, that's just awful!"

"It's awful, but I can probably use that fact to my advantage," Damien said, a glimmer of an idea growing in his brain. He smiled. "We'll just have to wait and see, baby."

****

Against his will, Pip was becoming concerned for Craig.

After Damien had pushed him and disappeared, Craig had fallen to the floor and hadn't gotten up. Pip could hear his raspy breathing filling the room; a sound that made his own throat ache.

"Craig?" He whispered. "Craig, are you okay?"

Silence stretched across the room. Anxiously, Pip listened for any signs that Craig was beginning to stir. Outside, morning birds were beginning to trill in the trees. Their song, which made Pip feel wonderfully (if only partially) normal again, was a welcome sound when Craig's silence continued.

"Craig?" He called again.

All at once, Craig flung his upper body onto the bed, his eyes wide and staring. Choking back a scream, Pip could see that a terrible transformation was coming over him. Craig's skin was becoming a mottled grey color around the edges of his face, and the whites of his eyes were yellowing rapidly. His hands, which were hooked into the bedspread so that he wouldn't slide to the floor again, resembled dark claws. A foul odor rose from him, causing Pip to shrink away in overwhelmed disgust.

Pip's heart filled with pity. What was Damien doing to him? Did he intend to use him up until there was nothing left? Pip was astounded at the extent of Damien's cruelty.

With great effort, Craig was trying to pull himself onto the bed. Grabbing one of Pip's legs with a gnarled hand, he was able to make it, his breath becoming even more labored in the process. More than anything, Pip wanted to hurl that twisted hand from his leg, but resisted the urge. After all, Craig couldn't help what he was becoming, could he?

"Craig," Pip cried, "can't you fight him at all? He's going to kill you!"

Craig didn't answer, instead, he gently placed a hand on Pip's chest. Without any effort at all, he yanked on his pajama top, causing buttons to go flying in every direction. Pip's pale torso, like an untarnished snowfield, was left completely exposed. Craig ran a nail up the middle of his stomach, causing Pip to shiver uncontrollably. Delicately, he traced the contour of each of Pip's ribs, a look of supreme concentration on his face.

The stench exuding from Craig's flesh was becoming stronger now. His movements, which had been swift and unnaturally fast before, were slowing down and becoming stilted. Pip was astonished to see how quickly Craig was falling apart in front of him.

"Craig! Stop! You've got to listen!" He yelled, desperately.

Silently, Craig draped his hands around Pip's neck, and for a moment, his touch was almost tender. Lovingly, he stroked Pip's throat and then slowly, he began applying pressure. Pip gasped as he felt Craig's grip becoming stronger, until his air was completely cut off. Feeling his eyes bulging out of his skull, Pip began to writhe under Craig's death-grip. His mouth gaped open in silent pleading.

Craig continued to tighten his grip. His face was passionless, his execution of the task methodical. Not only was his body breaking down, it would seem, but so was his brain. Craig was truly becoming a device for Damien's evil and even through Pip's agony, he could see there was no sense in trying to reach him any longer.

 _I feel so warm_ , Pip thought through the pain. _Who knew it was going to end this way?_

He closed his eyes. Pip certainly didn't want his last image on Earth to be of Craig's inhuman face. Faintly, he believed he could hear the bones and sinew within the column of his neck creaking and grinding.

 _Why aren't I afraid? Am I actually ready for this?_ Rational thought was becoming difficult now, but he still managed to ask himself these questions.

Did he want to die?

The pain and the warmth were reaching a Hellish zenith now. As Pip could feel his body giving in, as it began to slacken, he readied himself for the inevitable.

 _Just promise me wherever I end up will be better than this place_ , he pleaded to some unknown force. He didn't exactly believe in God, but he hoped whoever heard him would be merciful of his soul.

Suddenly, through the fog of lost breath and the serenity that comes with acceptance, Pip realized he was able to breathe again. While he had been slipping into the warm waters of eternity, Craig had let go of his throat. Dimly, through the black spots that obscured his vision and the ringing in his ears, he could hear screams that leeched the blood from his veins.

Pip's throat was throbbing with a fire that made him want to sob. Opening his eyes, he could see weak morning sunlight dappling the carpet, and the birdsong in the trees was stronger. Horribly, he also took in the sight of Craig convulsing against the far wall. He was clutching at his flesh, digging his nails in and tearing at it relentlessly. Sickeningly, Pip could see that he was removing chunks of flesh every time he pulled his hands away. The pieces of meat that flecked the carpet were a dingy gray.

 _His wounds!_ Pip thought sluggishly.

The wounds Pip had inflicted with the gun were slowly growing larger. A gelatinous fluid was oozing from each of them, and it seemed to be a mixture of blood and the black vapor that had immobilized him. As it seeped from Craig's body, the horrible smell Pip had detected before intensified unbearably. The only time Pip had experienced a stench like that had been when he'd visited a slaughterhouse for school: thick, meaty, riddled with an intense fear.

Craig continued to scream, his howls akin to the sound a rabbit makes when murdered by a fox. His eyes bulged almost completely from their sockets, and he turned them on Pip, pleading. Trickles of blood began to escape from their corners, like they'd been popped with a pin.

Although Pip's throat was in agony, he tried to call to him.

"Craig, Craig I'm sorry!" He croaked, the words barely audible in the early morning symphony of bird calls. "I'm so sorry!" He whispered pathetically. Pip hung his head, unable to stomach the sight of Craig's decay any longer.

"Don't tell me you don't want to watch the show?" A voice next to him asked incredulously.

Pip whipped his head around. Damien sat next to him, his legs crossed, his face amused. Absentmindedly, he chewed on one of his nails, while Craig's screaming intensified.

"Isn't this what you wanted, Pip?" He asked, slyly. "He'll never screw around with you again, that's for sure."

"No!" Pip mouthed, his voice almost completely gone. "I didn't want this at all! I may hate Craig, but I never wanted him to suffer this way! Please - make it stop!"

"So, you don't want him to die?" Damien asked, his eyes narrowing.

Exhausted, Pip shook his head. "No, I don't! Please, Damien..."

"I can still save him. He's not that far gone." Damien stretched like a cat, and looked deeply into Pip's eyes.

"Fine, yes! Do it! Hurry!"

"Oh, no, no, no, no, Pip. You have to give something in order to get something, you know that. What kind of demon would I be if I didn't demand payment for my services?" He smiled.

A profound stillness came over Pip. Although he was no longer being strangled by Craig, he could still feel a noose tightening around his neck. He stared at Damien, completely at a loss when it came to dealing with his conniving nature.

"You wouldn't," He breathed.

"Oh, but I would. Say the word, Pip, and I'll save your little boyfriend. Refuse me, and he dies. Oh, and I'll leave you strapped to this bed for your parents to find. If you don't die first, of course. They're not due back until next week, right?"

Pip knew that he had been defeated. Hanging his head, he couldn't bear to look at Damien any longer. Vaguely, he could hear Craig's death-throws becoming more violent, the sounds making his stomach clench like a fist.

 _After all of the agony Craig put you through, are you really going to sacrifice yourself for him?_ His mind screeched. _After he pushed you down the stairs? After he practically raped you? After the years of constant abuse and fear and..._

The thoughts died in his head. It was true that Craig had wounded his body for years, and would continue to do so if given the chance, but Pip couldn't let that fact alter his decision. He couldn't allow the misdeeds of another to strip him of his humanity. If that happened, that would mean Craig had managed to take everything from him. Pip had shed plenty of his own blood at the hands of Craig, but that blood did not contain his compassion. A feeling of calm serenity broke over him, the way the sun spread over the ocean after it crested the horizon.

"Well, what's it going to be?" Damien asked, impatiently.

Numbly, Pip nodded his head. There was not enough strength left within him to vocalize his assent. He was more tired in that moment then he could ever remember being. The only thing he could cling to now was that warmth, that serenity, and it was like the sweetest surrender he could ever imagine.

"Wonderful!" Damien exclaimed. "He'll be back to normal in no time!"

With a snap of his fingers, Craig's screams stopped. Gently, his body rose into the air, and a halo of warm, clear light enveloped him. From his position on the bed, Pip could feel the warmth of it fall across his body, and for a moment, he could forget that he'd just made a deal with the Devil.

****

The pain was dissipating, thankfully.

Craig could feel himself being covered in the purest warmth he had ever known. It was as if the sun was lodged within his chest, and he was lighting up the entire world. The wounds on his hand and neck were beginning to close, and even the pieces of flesh he'd ripped away were growing back; becoming whole.

His mind was becoming blissfully clear again...

And it was all because of this beautiful light, the light that he had always seen radiating from him; from Pip.

Maybe there was hope for himself after all.

****

"There we go. That sack of crap is as good as new," Damien said.

Pip looked over, and saw that Craig was sleeping peacefully on the floor; curled up in a sunbeam like a cat. Somewhere deep inside him, a minute joy surged.

Damien leaned against Pip softly.

"We're going to have so much fun together, Pip. You just wait and see."

Fear loomed its sinister head within Pip's breast, and in his heart, he knew he had made the right decision in saving Craig, but what was to become of him? How many were going to suffer because he had insisted on saving this one person?

With a shudder, he contemplated the time that stretched ahead, of the moments filled with Damien's cruelty and colored with the blood of untold numbers.

Bleakly, he could feel the tears building behind his eyelids, but he was smart enough not to let them fall in front of Damien.

A thought that had been rolling around in his brain for years came back to him now, a question he'd be asking himself for as long as he walked this Earth as a slave of his own personal hell:

When would this madness end?

 

The End

 


End file.
